Iron Man
by Ghosty464
Summary: Inventor, businessman, ladies' man, super hero. Gravely injured by an act of industrial sabotage, billionaire genius Tony Stark saved his own life by designing a life-sustaining shell - the hi-tech armor that transformed him into the invincible Iron Man!
1. Sometimes They Come Back Part 1

Iron Man

Chapter 1: Sometimes they come back part 1

The memories were so fresh even after all these years... Tony Stark could still feel the fear, could still taste the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. A tiny sliver of metal rested dangerously close to his heart. He had worked so feverishly, building the metal shell that would not only overthrow the Asian warlord who had kidnapped him but also preserve his own life. Until that terrible day, he'd been a youthful, arrogant genius -- born into a life of luxury, a silver spoon in his mouth. But he was reborn inside the cold gray armor of Iron Man... He became something more. He became a man with something to fight for. A hero.

The years had brought many changes to him since, curing him of his medical condition and bringing numerous alterations and improvements to his armor. But one thing had always remained -- the cold, keen knowledge of how quickly a life could be snuffed out. Every day was precious and had to be seized. Be it in the boardroom, the lab, or in battle with the Avengers, Tony Stark never backed down. He always pressed forward, seeking victory under any circumstances...

In this case, he was trying to maintain his balance on a wakeboard. The harsh Hawaiian waves were difficult to maneuver, especially on this type of board. It was much smaller than a surfboard and required different techniques to master. Tony crouched lower, barely avoiding a splashdown.

On the beach, Monique Chambers squealed with delight. She was a young fashion model that Tony had met at a fund-raising benefit for the Maria Stark Foundation. She was attractive and pleasant to be with, though no one would mistake her for a rocket scientist. She ran towards Tony as he emerged from the water. "You were fantastic! I thought you said you'd never been on one of those things before!"

Tony laughed as Monique gave him a big hug. "I haven't. It's not too difficult, though."

"Hah! You wouldn't catch me dead on one of those boards." Monique slid an arm around Tony's waist as they moved back towards their towels. "You really are amazing, Tony... Is there anything you can't do?" The young brunette flashed her stunning green eyes in his direction, bringing enough innuendo to make most grown men weak in the knees.

Tony Stark, however, was made of sterner stuff. He dropped down onto his towel and returned the gaze. "Actually, I've been known to fumble the ball on occasion."

Monique reached over and retrieved the mixed drink she'd set down earlier. She took a deep sip and offered the glass to Tony? "Want some? It's really good."

Tony glanced away. He could smell the alcohol and it was very enticing, to be sure. A recovering alcoholic, Tony found it was the little things like this that turned out to be the hardest battles. "No thanks, Monique. I prefer my bottled water these days."

A small chime caught Tony's attention and he turned to lift up the portable computer he carried with him at all times. Flipping the lid open, the monitor flared to life. The Stark 

Solutions logo appeared, with the message "Incoming Message for Tony Stark" emblazoned across the bottom of the screen.

"Do you have to bring that thing with you to the beach, Tony? I thought we were supposed to be having fun..." Monique pouted and turned to look at the ocean.

Tony didn't bother answering her. Monique was fun and diverting, but there was no chance of a relationship between them. The image of Pepper Potts emerged on the screen, her freckled face drawn tight in concern. "Tony?"

"I'm here, Pepper. What's wrong?"

"There's a problem with your cousin Morgan -- He was injured last night in a break-in at his home. They're keeping him in a New York hospital for observation."

Tony's face dropped. Morgan Stark was the family's black sheep, a man who had squandered all of his personal fortune numerous times. As a result, he'd fallen in with the underworld on more than one occasion, having only recently attained a high-ranking position in Stark-Fujikawa. "How bad is it?"

"He's going to be okay, but he's some pretty serious burns."

"Burns?"

Pepper nodded, his eyes studying Tony's face for signs of concern. Long ago, she'd loved him with all her heart... and in some ways, she still did. "He says that the break-in wasn't of the usual variety. The assailant was looking for you... And he called himself the Melter."

Tony stood up quickly. "I see. I'll be back as soon as I can, Pepper." He cast a quick glance at Monique, seeing her stunned reaction. "I'm sorry but I have to head to New York -- Family emergency."

As he moved back to the hotel, only one thought kept going through his mind : The Melter was dead, killed by the death-dealer known as the Scourge. Whomever had claimed his name couldn't possibly be the original -- but it seemed that they had also picked up the first Melter's hatred of Tony Stark. All too many people seemed to share that feeling these days.

The small figure moved into the cemetery stealthily, casting glances about himself to make sure that he wasn't being followed. He wore a small costume that made him resemble a living chess piece and his head was shaved bald. His dark, greedy eyes lit up when he came to the grave that he sought.

"Soon, my master, you shall live again... You have my word of honor." The diminutive man reached out to run his fingers across the letters on the gravestone. "All that was yours before shall be yours again..."

Iron Man flew towards the hospital, his mind drifting over the events of the past few days. His armor's artificial intelligence handled most of the minutiae of flying for him, allowing him to concentrate on the problems at hand. In recent weeks, he'd clashed with a revitalized Count Nefaria, the new War Machine, and the Doomsday Man

. Those battles, along with his continuing crusade to help Carol Danvers, aka Warbird, overcome her alcohol addiction, were making him weary.  
See Iron Man '99; Annual.  
In Iron Man v3 # 19-20.

This took place in Avengers v3 # 15-17.

He came to a smooth landing atop the hospital building, using the new voice-activated system in his armor to peel the suit from his body. "Disengage." The armor folded itself up neatly, hanging in the air awaiting his next command. Normally, Tony would store the suit in the trunk of his car but he'd flown the whole way under his own power. "Cloak."

The armor shimmered, refracting light around itself until it was invisible to the naked eye. The Iron Man armor was in continual upgrade and this new feature was just the latest. It was similar to the old system in the so-called "Silver Centurion" armor that he'd worn in the past, but with many improvements.

Moments later, Tony entered Morgan's room. The elder Stark lay in his bed, his right arm and leg heavily bandaged.

"How are you doing, Morgan?"

"As well as can be expected, I suppose. I'm glad you could come." Morgan placed a hand over Tony's and squeezed. "The bigwigs at Fujikawa are promising to hire private investigators to find the scoundrel."

"You told Pepper that he was looking for me..."

Morgan nodded, looking away. "Indeed. You'd think after all this time I'd have earned a few stalkers of my own, wouldn't you? Alas... I was having an after-dinner drink and standing on the balcony. I purchased one of your old penthouse suites while you were gone and I was just thinking of how I could revitalize the place when I heard a strange humming sound. This Melter fellow literally blew my front door apart. He actually thought I was you at first, I think. Very strange fellow, kept raving about how you'd ruined his family."

Tony blinked. "His family?"

"That's what he said. Make any sense to you?"

"Not really. I know that the original Melter was a man named Bruno Horgan. He was a business rival of ours until he went bankrupt following a government investigation that revealed he was using faulty materials. He used one of his inventions -- a malfunctioning radar device that could project a beam of liquefied iron -- to become a costumed villain. He's dead, though, killed by a madman called Scourge."

Morgan shrugged. "Apparently, Tony, the rumors of his demise were greatly exaggerated."

Carol Danvers wanted a drink so badly... She shivered slightly, standing in the kitchen of her Seattle home. She wore only a thin nightgown and stared hungrily into an open cabinet. Inside was a bottle of whiskey -- what her grandfather would have called "rot-gut." It was nasty, strong stuff and she'd hidden it inside for just such a night. She reached a trembling hand for it, stopping just short of it.

She knew Tony was right and that she had a problem, but she also felt she had a right to a drink every now and then. Growing up with a father who'd felt that women had a place and the military wasn't one of them, she'd had to fight for everything she wanted. Finally getting into NASA, she'd become a target of supervillains everywhere because of her association with the Kree hero Mar-Vell, finally becoming a hero herself. Since then, she'd lost her memories, had her powers altered several times, and suffered every indignity possible.

Carol grabbed the bottle and brought it down, setting it on the counter. Just one sip couldn't hurt, could it?

The image of Tony holding her in his arms came to her suddenly and powerfully. He'd been down this same road himself, she knew... With a strangled groan, she fired an energy blast at the bottle. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces, the alcohol running in rivulets to the floor.

Carol staggered back, clenching her fists. "No... I'm stronger than this. I'm stronger than this."

Tony Stark stood outside the Stark-Fujikawa headquarters, ignoring the throng of reporters nipping at his heels. Fujikawa was going to be showing off their update of Plato -- an artificial intelligence created by Tony himself during his Force Works days but recently upgraded by Suzi Endo -- and had invited many of their rivals to the show. Tony had originally planned to send one of his employees but in light of the Melter situation, he was in attendance himself. If the Melter was targeting Tony, then he'd put himself out in the open to draw him out. Better than to put more innocents in danger.

"Mr. Stark -- How do you feel about Fujikawa making money off of your creations?"

The question brought Tony back to reality and he turned to face the reporter who'd asked it. "I have no problem with Fujikawa generating revenue off things that rightfully belong to the Stark portion of their corporation. As I said after my return, I don't plan to regain Stark Enterprises in any way. If they can improve upon the original Plato design, I salute them."

The follow-up question was lost on Tony as a sudden movement on the rooftop of a nearby building caught his attention. Standing there, in broad daylight, was a man wearing the Melter's costume. It was almost too much to believe -- Tony had seen this public appearance as a long shot at drawing out the new Melter, not something that would actually work.

"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, but something's come up rather unexpectedly."

Virginia "Pepper" Potts stared at her computer screen, a frown on her face. She hated days like this, when Tony was off risking his neck and Happy away working at his new job as the community outreach manager. It made her feel useless -- and alone.

Since her divorce from Happy, she'd thrown herself into her work in hopes that she'd find meaning there. She did find it, to an extent, but there was something lacking. Pepper glanced over at the framed photo of Tony on the wall and realized suddenly what exactly it was that was missing from her life.

She missed being loved. It was simple as that. She knew that Happy would take her back in a second, but that felt like taking a step backwards -- admitting that the things that had gone wrong in their marriage were, in some way, her fault.

A telephone call thankfully saved her from further thinking along those lines. "Stark Solutions. How may I assist you?"

The voice that came through the receiver was feminine, which wasn't that surprising since Tony got a large number of female callers. "I need to speak with Tony Stark on an urgent matter of business."

Pepper recognized the voice almost immediately, her eyes growing cold in response. "Ms. Bain? I'm sorry, but Mr. Stark is in New York at a Fujikawa showing and cannot be reached. Even if he were available, he has no interest in speaking with you."  
Sunset Bain is the owner of Baintronics and the mastermind behind the creation of the new, evil War Machine.

"I see. Well, inform him that I'm sorry I missed him in New York. Pressing business has taken me elsewhere, I'm afraid. Do tell him, however, that I have some interesting news that I want share with him. It concerns Fujikawa's holdings on the Stark companies. If he wishes, he may contact me at 555-0675."

"I'll be sure to pass that on, Ms. Sunset. Good-bye." Pepper cut the connection, her eyes flashing. Tony had suffered through more terrible luck with women than any man alive, she thought. What he really needed was a woman who actually gave a damn about _him_ and not about his money...

Iron Man circled the rooftop, his new cloaking feature hiding him from the Melter's gaze. As long as Tony didn't access any of the armor's weapons systems, he could remain invisible forever.

The figure before him was somewhat shorter than Bruno had been, with a more slender frame. The costume and equipment, however, were unmistakably that of the original Melter.

Iron Man landed behind the Melter, fading into view. He had his hands raised, ready to fire his repulsors when needed. "Looking for someone?"

The Melter jerked around and Iron Man noted quickly that the man before was young, in his early twenties at the latest. "How -- ? You're good, Iron Man. I'll grant you that. I take it you're here to defend your master?"

Iron Man grunted. "Mr. Stark has never harmed you -- What kind of grudge do you have against him?"

"That's something for me and Mr. Stark to work out for ourselves! Now, I'm sure you're familiar with this, aren't you?" A beam of destructive energy flared out from the belt-mounted melting unit.

The ray struck Iron Man's armor full-on. It had numerous different settings, but the most deadly was the one that the Melter was using now -- instead of projecting actual heat, the unit instead sought to weaken the molecules of the target. The target literally broke down into nothing.

Warning signs flashed all over Tony's viewscreens. **ARMOR INTEGRITY COMPROMISED. RECOMMEND TRANSFERENCE OF SPARE ENERGY TO DEFENSE SYSTEMS. **Tony okayed the transfer, backing away from the blast.

Iron Man fired twin repulsor-beams at the Melter, blowing the rooftop in front of him to bits. The villain went down on his back with a cry.

"Who are you, kid? You're not good enough to take me on like this..."

The young Melter brought himself to his knees with a sneer on his face. "Maybe you're right, Shellhead... Maybe I'm not good enough..."

Iron Man's armor warned him a split second ahead of time that a rear attack was imminent. He dove to his left, the brunt of the energy beam missing him. It was still enough to send Iron Man down, his energy reserves flooding his armor to keep it going. With a groan, he looked up into the face of an older man wearing the Melter's original costume, including cape.

"I see you've met my son, Iron Man... How fitting this is. He and I will kill you together and then we'll get our revenge on Tony Stark for all that's done to us!"

Inside the helmet, Tony Stark looked on with pure shock. That voice, the mannerisms... "Bruno Horgan? But... You're supposed to be dead."

The original Melter threw back his head and laughed. "Dead? Oh yes, I am supposed to be dead, aren't I? A pity you won't get a chance to learn the truth behind my sudden resurrection!"

This time, two beams of energy struck Iron Man.

**ARMOR INTEGRITY DEGRADED. RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE WITHDRAWAL. REPEAT : ARMOR INTEGRITY-- SQUAWK (bzzt) **


	2. Sometimes They Come Back Part 2

Iron Man

Chapter 2: Sometimes they come back part 2

**WARNING : ARMOR HULL INTEGRITY DAMAGED!**

Tony Stark let out a long groan of agony. In his identity of Iron Man, he had investigated the strange reappearance of a long-dead foe, the Melter. His search had led him to not one, but two men bearing the name -- one of whom claimed to be Bruno Horgan, the original Melter, and another who purported to be Horgan's son. The subsequent battle had gone very badly for the Golden Avenger, placing him at the mercy of one of his oldest foes.

Within his armored shell, Iron Man was quite literally sweating. The sweat stung his eyes and he tried to blink it away, focusing on the situation at hand. He had to get free somehow, before his armor peeled away like a grape. Placing both hands on the roof's surface, he fired his pulse bolts downward. Normally, the pulse bolts absorbed ambient energy as they traveled, making them more effective the farther away they were used. In this case, the pulse bolts created a powerful earthquake effect. The rooftop rippled and groaned, but it was enough to throw the younger Melter to lose his balance and topple over. Much to Iron Man's chagrin, however, the elder Melter continued his attack unimpeded.

Iron Man managed to stagger to his feet, his armor's warning messages still flashing on his monitor. The Melter's attack was generating intense heat and Tony feared he'd black out soon. He flipped a switch in his armor, hoping once more to distract the villain's assault.

A dozen Iron Mans suddenly appeared, surrounding Bruno Horgan. The Melter gaped for a moment, muttering "What in the --?" A sly smile suddenly appeared on his face. "Holograms. How ironic."

Iron Man took advantage of the momentary pause and activated his boots jets. Only one of them fired, the other having been damaged in the battle. The sole boot jet was enough to carry Iron Man to another rooftop, where he collapsed. Thankfully, his image-inducer had worked. If not for the sudden distraction, he might not have made it.

Tony's mind was working overtime, trying to pinpoint something that had been bothering him ever since Bruno Horgan's appearance... Sweat ran into his eyes again, making him curse. That's when the thought occurred to him. Heat. The original Melter's ray was generating heat... Iron Man glanced up and saw the younger Melter getting to his feet. Bruno Horgan was nowhere to be seen, confirming Iron Man's suspicion.

The Melter's ray didn't actually melt things, despite the name. It actually disintegrated the atoms of any material it was used against -- but in both this battle and in the attack on Morgan Stark, there were signs of extreme heat and burns. Switching his internal scanners to search for various energy signatures, Iron Man settled onto two very different signatures in the area : the first belonged to the younger Melter and matched up with those readings taken in battle with the original Melter. The second set of readings, however, were definitely not those of the Melter...  
Morgan was attacked by the Melter in issue # 1, suffering severe burns.

A sudden flash of light surrounded Iron Man, blinding him momentarily. Intense heat burned the outer shell of his armor, but this time Iron Man was prepared. He should have seen it sooner, recognized the tell-tale signs of who this new Melter was partners with. The sudden reappearance of a long-dead foe. The presence of heat and light in his attacks. The statement about the irony of Iron Man using holograms. It added up to one thing and one thing only. Iron Man fired his repulsor-beams in a wide arc, causing the living light around him to howl and coalesce. The light took on a humanoid form as Iron Man steadied himself. "You've got a real habit of impersonating my dead enemies, don't you? Well, the game's up. Your power is dependent on coherent light -- by setting my repulsors to an antagonistic frequency, I'm able to --"  
Iron Man's mystery foe impersonated the Titanium Man in Iron Man v1 # 258-259.  
A little trick first show in Iron Man v1 # 260.

"Oh, shut up, Iron Man! We've been through this before, many times. I know very well the nature of my powers and the limits of my abilities -- since you turned me into this, I've had plenty of time to test myself." The shape suddenly laughed inhumanly, energy crackling around his form. "I admit that I wanted to rub Horgan's death in your face... You might not have killed him yourself but you constantly humiliated him while he was alive. And besides, I'm helping his boy cope with the loss by killing off the two men most responsible for his pain -- Tony Stark and Iron Man!"

Iron Man backed as he saw the energy form crackle and flow like lightning back to the other rooftop. The villain scooped up the Melter and deposited him near Iron Man. The new Melter was grinning from ear-to-ear, "Well, well -- Looks like my vengeance on Stark can wait for a bit. Killing his bodyguard will be a nice prelude to the main event..."

"Sorry, kiddo," the energy being warned, "But the death of Iron Man is especially reserved for his greatest foe -- the LIVING LASER!"

Jonathan Tremont sat in a lotus position in his home, his mind gnawing over the troubles of recent days. As the founder of the Triune Understanding, he preached the importance of serenity between mind, body and spirit... but those three were quite out-of-synch on this evening.

A figure passed the through the very walls of the room, floating to halt in front of Tremont. It was Lord Templar, a being who had become well-known as a foe of the Mighty Avengers in recent months. "Jonathan... Things have gone poorly. The Rodgers girl is still free."  
Lord Templar most recently battled the Avengers in Avengers V3 # 15.

Jonathan let out a sigh and nodded. "I've heard the news reports. A superheroine called Cybermancer defeated our agent last evening. We will have to deal with this directly, I'm afraid."  
Whiplash tried to capture Iron Man's old girlfriend Marianne Rodgers in Cybermancer # 1.

Templar's eyes flashed. "As I said we were going to from the beginning. It is beneath us to use agents such as Whiplash. Either myself or Pagan can deal with her easily enough."

Tremont rose from the floor, moving over to a table where poured himself a glass of water. "She knows too much about us, Lord Templar. Our secrets are embedded in that brain of hers. If need be, she'll have to be eliminated completely."

Templar moved towards Tremont, merging their forms into one. With one voice, they spoke. "She will not betray us. Our day has come. The Triune Understanding cannot be stopped."

The Living Laser... Things were going from bad to worse. Even under normal circumstances, the Laser was a dangerous foe. Combined with another villain -- even a neophyte one -- he was downright frightening. "Why the games, Parks?"

The Living Laser raised his arms wide, flooding the area with light. Iron Man stood his ground, having adjusted his armor's optic shields to compensate. The Melter, however, screamed in agony. "You caused me to lose my humanity, Avenger -- I've sworn to kill you... You can imagine my pleasure when I visited an old friend ours -- Justin Hammer -- and discovered that Horgan's son had approached him about being refitted as the new Melter. Hammer wanted me to work for him again, but I'm no man's lackey now. But I knew a good thing when I saw it -- I partnered up with Benny for the sheer fun of it. Stark's no favorite of mine, you know -- and after my last few defeats, I didn't want to take any chances with you..."

The Living Laser suddenly let loose with a flurry of laser-attacks. The pinpoint-thin beams of energy sheared right through Iron Man's armor, piercing his flesh with ease. The wounds were cauterized instantly, but that in no way lessened the pain.

Iron Man staggered back, tripping over the edge of the rooftop. He fell downward, crashing hard into a trash bin located in one of the many alleyways surrounding the Fujikawa headquarters. "I can't beat him directly -- not with my reserves depleted so low. I have to out-think him, somehow..."

Part of the bin suddenly disappeared into nothingness, drawing Iron Man's attention back upwards. The Melter was there, cackling. "My father was ruined when the government shut his business down -- He spent the rest of his life being beaten by the likes of you! Today is the day that my father's name is raised in triumph!"

"You talk too much, kid -- Your father was a crooked businessman and an even worse supervillain. His problems were his own." Iron Man triggered another control in his armor, sending forth a pair of Hyperwave Generators. The tiny, flying machines took stationary positions on either side of the Melter and immediately began bombarding him with conflicting frequencies of Magno-Pulse Energy. The Melter clutched his head in agony, falling forward into unconsciousness.  
These tiny little gizmos were first used against Fin Fang Foom in Iron Man v1 # 271.

"The kid's a real amateur, isn't he?" The Living Laser appeared at Iron Man's side. "He's got a lotta potential, but he's a loser. So was his dad for that matter, but I liked him. Great poker buddy."

Iron Man pulled himself from the trash bin, tossing off the debris that coated his armor. This entire battle had gone poorly for him, but he had to count himself lucky -- one of his opponents was down and that meant one less thing to worry about. "You shouldn't have come after me like this, Parks. I want to help you -- I can search for a way to cure you..."

"Cure me?! I might have been interested in that once, Iron Man, but not anymore. I'm more than human now... I'm composed of pure light. I'm immortal. And I'm UNSTOPPABLE!" The Living Laser flared brighter, swelling in intensity until the entire alleyway was blindingly white. "This time I'm going to kill you!"

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON

Detective Plexico stared down at the lifeless body before him and winced. Another one. He glanced over at the coroner and asked the same question he'd asked the last few times one of these bodies had turned up. "Identical to the others?"

The coroner nodded. "Yep. Healthy woman in her late twenties or early thirties, as always. Same hair and eye color, height and weight match up, and her blood type is the same. She's just like all the rest..."

Plexico sighed. These bodies hadn't just shown up in Seattle -- they had popped up in other cities over the last couple of years, too. All of them looking just like Whitney Frost -- the woman known as Madame Masque. "You think they're clones?"

"Heck if I know. I've sent off some DNA samples, but they haven't come back yet. I'd wager that we're going to see they match there too, though. What bugs me isn't the fact that the dead women are all alike -- I'm curious who's doing the killing."

"Yeah. Me too."

Iron Man was in the fight of his life. His armor was trying to absorb as much of the ambient energy as it could, both to replenish its own dwindling supply and also to reduce the amount of damage done to the surrounding area, but the Living Laser's assault was too strong to be easily handled. The Armored Avenger took the direct assault instead, grabbing the Living Laser's corporeal form. "You're not in your right mind, Laser! I can help you become human again -- somewhere inside there you have to miss it!"

"I did miss it at first, Iron Man -- But then I realized that in this form no one will ever laugh at me again! Do you know they used to call me the Living Loser?! Now, everyone who ever laughed at Arthur Parks will pay!"

Iron Man grimaced inside his helmet. He felt like he was being fried alive, his numerous wounds making him dizzy. Sometimes he wondered if this was what his life had become -- fighting one insane villain after another for little to no reason.

The Laser fired another energy blast, sending Iron Man flying through the streets. He landed amid the throng of reporters who were gathered outside of Fujikawa Headquarters. Inside, 

Stark knew, they were showing off the newest model of PLATO -- a sentient computer created by Stark himself. He wondered idly if he would die here in the streets while others profited from his creations.

Some of the reporters scattered while others hurriedly brought their cameras to bear. Iron Man himself raised himself slowly to his feet. His armor was cracked in places, smoking from the Laser's attack.

One way or another, Iron Man mused, this is my last stand. He saw the Living Laser flying towards him, his energy crackling and hissing. Tony made the necessary adjustments to his armor. He channeled every last iota of power into his repulsors for one last-ditch effort. If it failed, he'd be helpless -- paralyzed within his own armor. "Arthur... It has to stop."

The Laser hesitated for a moment. "Oh, you're right about that -- It's going to stop. For you." The Living Laser rushed forward as a tiny staff of light, eager to pierce Iron Man's heart.

The Golden Avenger fired his repulsors, using a variation on the antagonistic energy pattern that he'd used to great success before. The repulsors scattered and broke up the Living Laser's form, preventing him from coalescing into a single body. Iron man poured it on, not relaxing his attack until the air was quiet save for his own attack. Then the mighty hero fell forward to his knees.

"Iron Man -- Are you okay?" Iron Man raised his head and looked into the eyes of a pretty young reporter.

He nodded quickly and said "Call the Avengers -- My internal comlink is shattered. Tell them to bring a Level-One Containment Field." Iron Man felt his armor seizing up and fell silent, waiting for his teammates to arrive and capture the Laser's dispersed energy. With any luck, the Melter would still be around for the authorities as well...

TONY STARK'S MANHATTAN PENTHOUSE APARTMENT

Tony Stark pulled himself from the sauna with a groan. He ached everywhere, even in places he didn't know existed. The Living Laser and the new Melter had badly damaged his armor -- refitting it would take a couple of days, at least. Luckily, he always kept a spare model in cases of emergency.

He had just finished toweling off when the phone rang. A flick of a switch and a holographic image of Happy Hogan appeared before him. "Happy! What can I do for you?"

Happy looked concerned. "Hey -- Are you okay, boss? You look like you just went 15 rounds with Holyfield!"

"I had a run-in with some old sparring partners... I'll be okay, though."

"If you say so -- You still might want to take it easy, though. Are you coming back to Seattle right away?"

"Most likely -- I was just here to check on Morgan's condition." Happy lapsed into silence, long enough for Tony to realize that there was something very wrong. "What is it, Hap?"

"It's about Pepper, boss... I wanted to let you know something but I wasn't sure I could do it face-to-face in person. So I'm kinda taking the coward's way out."

Tony was absolutely baffled. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"I know you don't need it but -- You have my blessing to date Pepper. She needs a good guy who'll treat her right and I'd trust you with my life."

A moment passed as the two men stared at one another -- Tony finally broke the silence by saying "Hap, I appreciate the sentiment but Pepper and I are just friends now. Honestly. I've come to the conclusion that it wouldn't be fair to anyone if I got into a serious relationship right now. I've got too many irons in the fire, as it is."

Happy got an expression of both relief and embarassment on his face. "Oh... Guess I jumped to the wrong conclusion, huh?"

"I'd say so." Tony laughed gently. "Tell you what, Hap, when I get back the two of us will go out for dinner and talk about this, okay?"

"Sure, boss. I'd like that."

Tony watched as the visual went dark. That Happy... Where he had gotten that notion? He liked Pepper, even loved her in a way but not like that...

A soft rap at the door brought him around. "Yes?"

The butler's voice was deep and old. "Sir, there's a Ms. Endo here to see you."

Endo... Suzi Endo? He hadn't seen her since the Force Works days -- but then again, he realized, she was heavily involved in the PLATO project for Fujikawa. She probably wanted to compare notes... "Tell her I'll be right out."

"Yes, sir."

Tony quickly got dressed and stepped out, unaware of the guest that Suzi had brought with her...


	3. Triad Part 1

Iron Man

Chapter 3: Triad Part 1

**CALEYVILLE, TEXAS -- JUST OUTSIDE HOUSTON**

The headquarters of the Triune Understanding stood proud and tall in the hot Texas sun. A multi-million dollar complex, the Triune headquarters boasted a three-floor library, a 10,000 seat auditorium, several small chapels and a fitness spa that boasted numerous experimental health programs.

Several members of the organization were gathered in mediation across the front lawn, their heads bowed low in contemplation. Tony Stark looked at them with interest as his black Jaguar pulled into a parking spot.

"They don't look like cultists do they?" Carol Danvers, aka Warbird, was watching them as well, her long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore slacks and a white blouse, her eyes looking bloodshot and tired. She'd been wrestling with an alcohol problem in recent months, one of the many reasons that Tony had requested her presence on this mission -- he wanted her away from temptation as much as possible.

Tony stroked his goatee, never taking his eyes off the meditating throng. "They may or may not be under the influence of drugs, Carol -- but one thing's for sure, they're under the spell of Jonathan Tremont. The Avengers had a nasty run-in with Mr. Tremont not too long ago and he may have hired Whiplash to kidnap Marianne Rodgers..."  
See Avengers v3 # 15.  
See Cybermancer # 1-2.

Carol nodded in response. She had been both relieved and worried when Tony called her with this invitation -- she wanted to prove herself to him, but she also had the feeling that he'd invited her along to keep her out of trouble. "You're right about one thing -- I can sense that energy residue you were talking about. I don't think we'll need the hand-held scanners at all."  
Iron Man and the Avengers used scanners to trace Lord Templar, a villain associated with the Triune Understanding, in Avengers v3 # 15.

"Good -- I don't want us attracting any more attention than we have to."

Tony got out of the car, watching as Jorge Teodor approached. Tremont's right-hand man, the slightly overweight Teodor had the appearance of someone who was used to sniveling.

"Mr. Stark! This is quite an honor. My name is Jorge Teodor. We were all very excited when you contacted us about your interest... Many celebrities, both in and out of the business world, have become members of the Understanding." Teodor shook Tony's hand firmly and smiled with interest at Carol. "And you have brought a guest as well?"

Tony motioned towards Carol with a smile. "My beautiful companion is named Carol Danvers. She's a former NASA employee and a journalist, as well."

Teodor's smile faltered only slightly. "A journalist?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Teodor, I'm here as a private citizen only. I'm not looking to write an expose." Carol looked away as she spoke, trying to pinpoint the source of the energy residue in the air. It was definitely inside the main building somewhere...

"Well, of course we have nothing to hide -- Feel free to write of your experiences here. But I'm being rude -- as I explained on the phone, rooms have been provided for you. You can learn about our beliefs over the next few days, Mr. Stark -- and I'm confident that, like so many others, you'll find the enlightenment you seek."

**SUB-BASEMENT A, TRIUNE HEADQUARTERS**

"There is no sign of his armored bodyguard?" Jonathan Tremont's strong voice had a soothing component to it, one that could quiet even his harshest critics.

Lord Templar floated in the air beside Tremont, energy trailing from his body. "I have seen nothing to indicate his presence -- but he cannot be far. Stark never travels without him. Given Iron Man's suspicions the last time he was here, I doubt Stark's sincerity in learning about our ways..."

Tremont smiled serenely. "Mr. Stark shall find himself drawn in by our message, have no fear. Men such as he are ever seeking the light of knowledge..."

Templar glanced at Tremont with annoyance. "Spare me the platitudes, Jonathan. Our mission is too important for us to forget ourselves in the lies we've weaved."

"Don't worry, Templar... I won't forget our goals. Do you sense anything amiss about his companion?"

Lord Templar turned his attention back to the small monitor before him. He could see Teodor leading Stark and Danvers since the main complex. "She radiates energy like a fallen star... Perhaps she is Iron Man. There's no reason to assume that a woman couldn't operate the armor as well as a man -- the male name could simply be something to throw off attempts at uncovering Iron Man's true identity."

"Perhaps. I shall contact our members within NASA and check the background on this Danvers woman. In the meantime, merge with me so that your energies will be untraceable."

Templar's form connected with Tremont's, slowly merging until the two became one. Tremont's eyes flashed with power once before dimming to their natural state...

"One bed, Tony? Are you sure you didn't lead them to think we were more than friends?" Carol's sly smile was more playful than challenging, but it was enough to bring Tony's eyebrows up in surprise.

The room in which the two were standing was, even by Tony's standard, plush. A large, canopy-style bed dominated the room, but a wall-mounted television and an empty bar (as 

per Tony's request) also drew attention. Spreading his hands in innocence, Tony could only laugh. "I swear, I asked for separate rooms... Do you want me to fetch Teodor?"

Carol shook her head, moving to check out the bar. "It's okay -- I trust you. Besides, if you get fresh, I think I can handle you."

Tony frowned as he saw Carol checking the cabinets beneath the bar. He'd made sure that Teodor understood that he wanted no alcohol in the room and he was relieved to see that Carol had come up empty-handed. He set a small case on the bed and opened it. Inside was a hi-tech communications system. A flip of the switch and the room was blanketed with ultra-sonic noise. It didn't bother the room's occupants, but it would drown out any listening devices that might be about. "It should be safe for us to talk now..."

"I agree with you about this place -- something's not legit." Carol poured herself a glass of water and moved to sit on the bed. "First of all, that Teodor guy was too helpful, if you know what I mean."

"I agree -- I'm willing to bet that we'll find out more at the dinner tonight. Hopefully, Tremont will be there." Tony glanced over, noticing the way that Carol's hair fell across her breast now that her ponytail was let free. She was an incredibly beautiful woman -- strong and confident, with an almost masculine directness. With a start, Tony realized that Carol had seen his admiring gaze for what it was.

With a fluid grace, she rose from the bed and moved towards him. There was a need in her eyes, a hunger for comfort that he recognized all too well. When the addictive substance can't be had, the alcoholic sometimes turns to other avenues for relief. "Tony... I'm sorry for the way I've been acting..."

Tony grasped her hand, feeling her body standing very near his own. He could hear her breathing and smell the shampoo in her hair. "It's okay. I understand." A hoarseness was in his voice that he hadn't been expecting, an almost audible sign that he was responding to her advances in kind.

Tony Stark knew that he should pull away, that what was happening couldn't be healthy for either one of them. Instead, he stood his ground and accepted the warm kiss that she planted on his lips. When their tongues met, electricity seemed to explode between them as they hungrily explored each other's body...

Pepper Potts felt a chill run down her spine as she stepped into her Seattle home. Years spent at the side of Tony Stark had taught her to trust her instincts -- and in this case, they were telling her loud and clear that someone was in her house. Her hand went quickly to her purse, removing the stun gun that Tony had given her some time ago. It felt cold and metallic in her hand, like something unnatural. She wished suddenly that Happy were with her -- and she hated herself for the thought. She didn't need a man to take care of her.

She thought about running back to the car and calling for help, but she'd grown confident in her ability to handle most problems and so she pressed on. Leaving the door behind her open 

in case she had to run for escape, she moved further inside. "Who's there?" The house was dark and quiet -- too quiet for her tastes.

"Hello, Ms. Potts." The man's voice sent off warning bells in her head. She wasn't sure if she recognized it or not, but the tone sounded a bit too cocky.

She raised her gun towards the sound of the voice -- whomever it was, they were standing in a thick pocket of shadows leading into her den. "I'm only going this once more -- who the hell are you?"

The man stepped forward, his body wrapped in the blue-and-yellow costume that had been the hallmark of the original Spymaster. This fellow, though, wasn't the original -- the first Spymaster had been murdered by the Ghost, only to be replaced by a graduate from the Taskmaster's academy. "I'm Spymaster, darling, and I'm here to take you into custody."  
See Iron Man v1 # 220.

Pepper didn't need to hear anything further. She fired her gun, a thin laser beam shooting towards Spymaster. The villain ducked quickly, however, firing his own weapon. A tiny dart lodged in Pepper's neck, sending a powerful narcotic into her system.

With a groan, she staggered back and dropped her weapon. Slowly, she slid to the floor while Spymaster moved to stand over her. He knelt and tipped her chin up, admiring her beauty. "Hm. Too bad I was told to not mark you up any... I'd enjoy getting to know you. Still, duty calls and all that."

Spymaster rose to his feet and punched a communicator button. "Mr. Hammer, I have the target in my hands now. I'm returning to base."

Dinner was held in the massive dining room located at the heart of the main complex. It was more crowded than Tony had expected -- the hall was packed with the leaders of industry, as well as movie stars and film producers. It seemed that the in-thing these days was to join the Triune.

Tony was wearing an elegant black suit and attracted quite a bit of attention from the women in attendance -- but not nearly the attention that Carol was receiving. She wore a strapless black dress that showed off a trim, taut figure. Since their lovemaking session in the afternoon, they hadn't talked much -- a small measure of uncertainty hanging over them. Tony leaned over to whisper in her ear, "I think every woman here hates you and every guy wants you."

Carol smiled wryly. "Flattery gets you everywhere, Mr. Stark." A waiter moved forward with a tray of champagne but it was Carol who shooed him away. Noting Tony's look of approval, she frowned. "I hope that the whole evening isn't going to consist of you watching over me like a hawk. I've admitted I have a problem and I'm dealing with it."

Tony's response was interrupted by the arrival of Triathlon. The tri-colored hero moved forward, a big smile on his face. Tony knew that Delroy Garrett Jr. was one of the biggest backers of the Triune -- and he couldn't blame him. After Delroy had been stripped of his 

gold medals in the wake of a steroid-abuse scandal in the Olympics, he'd found purpose and acceptance among the Triune. He'd also found a superhero identity and a set of superpowers...

"Hi, Mr. Stark. It's a big honor to meet you." Triathlon's handshake was firm but friendly. He graced Carol with an appreciative glance. "Well... I have to admit, I think I've just met a living Goddess..."

Carol laughed in response. "Thanks. Why the longjohns tonight? Are you on duty?"

Triathlon shrugged. "Nah. Not really -- Mr. Tremont says it's good for everyone to see me around like this, though. Having a superhero doing some PR for them doesn't hurt. I mean, Pierce Brosnan never would become a member if he hadn't been interested in meeting me in the first place..."

Tony smiled. He liked Delroy, even if the kid had a serious blindspot when it came to the Triune Understanding. "I know a bit about that myself -- Iron Man's a good marketing tool, as well."

Triathlon glanced at him. "Where is old Shellhead anyway? I figured he'd be with you -- I was looking forward to it, actually. I got the feeling he was pretty steamed after our last meeting."

"He's around. I didn't want him attracting attention."

A hush fell throughout the hall as the crowd parted suddenly. Jonathan Tremont strode in, his face a mask of peace. He walked directly towards Tony Stark, stopping just short of him. "Mr. Stark. I welcome you in the name of peace and understanding."

Tony nodded in reply. "The same to you. I wish more of the world shared your beliefs."

"As do I. I hope you and your companion have been enjoying yourselves."

"Very much. We're scheduled to attend a couple of introductory classes in the morning -- I'm looking forward to it."

Tremont seemed pleased. "Good. I'll make time for us to speak more after dinner if you wish -- I have to pay a visit to Senator Kelly's table first. It's been some time since I've seen him."

"Of course." Tony watched him go, turning towards Carol. He noticed that her eyes were narrowed. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sensing... an energy build-up. Just outside the building. I think that --"

The sound of crashing brick and steel filled the room as one wall came tumbling down. The room was filled suddenly with the screams of terrified people, many of whom ran instinctively towards the exits.

The figure who strode into the hall was huge and heavily-built. Dark eyes flashed beneath a war helm. "I have returned -- returned to smite these pitiful humans from the face of the 

earth! Pagan will not be denied!"  
Pagan attacked the Triune Understanding in Avengers v3 # 15.

Triathlon glanced around, making sure that Tremont was okay. He saw the influential leader being hurried from the room. With his enhanced speed, Triathlon rushed forward. "Sorry, pal, you should have learned your lesson last time!" Triathlon struck Pagan hard in the face, but the figure wasn't staggered in the least.  
See Avengers v3 # 14-15.

Pagan laughed, grabbing Triathlon by the neck. "Fool! I am unstoppable -- I shall cleanse this world of all humanity!" Pagan tossed Triathlon like a rag doll, sending the hero flying through the destroyed wall.

Carol stepped forward, her adrenaline pumping. A powerful flare of light surrounded her, transforming her clothes into her Warbird costume. "You crashed the wrong party, Pagan!" The heroine flew forward, firing a stellar blast at the villain. Pagan went down hard, crying hard.

For Tony Stark, this situation was a difficult one. Security cameras were mounted all around the room, making the transition to Iron Man a bit more difficult. He lowered his chin, speaking softly into his tie clip. "Maneuver 17-C. Engage."

The trunk of Tony Stark's car opened suddenly as his armor, in its unopened state, flew out. Activating the cloaking feature, it disappeared from sight and entered the room. It zoomed past Pagan just as the madman backhanded Warbird.

Tony moved into the kitchen, which was thankfully empty. The armor shimmered into view before him, expanding out to wrap around his body. At the same time, it triggered an electro-static charge that froze the security cameras. It was temporary, but it last long enough to prevent any prying eyes from seeing the change. A moment later, Iron Man had joined the fray.

The Armored Avenger flew into the scene hard, charging into Pagan from behind. The villain was staggered and ill-prepared for Warbird's energy assault that followed. "Good work, Warbird! Now let's pour it on!"

Repulsors joined starbolts as the two heroes jointly assaulted the villain. He staggered back, crying out. "Nooooo! I will not be defeated again! Never again!"

"I am afraid, vile creature, that it is too late." Lord Templar's ethereal voice filled the room as the mysterious figure appeared out of nowhere. Templar channeled another energy blast at the villain, who was blasted into unconsciousness.

Iron Man and Warbird both glanced at Templar with suspicion. Iron Man stepped forward. "Templar... Can't say I'm surprised. You have quite a connection to the Triune, don't you?"

Templar smiled enigmatically. "As I have said before, I am on a crusade to bring peace to the world over -- and the Triune shares many of my beliefs."

Warbird's hands crackled with energy. "Well, maybe it's time you started giving us some answers!"

Templar nodded. "I quite agree." Energy washed out from him, enveloping both Iron Man and Warbird.

Iron Man acted as quickly as possible. He activated a silent drone that detached itself from his armor. It was small, less than three inches long, but it held a recording of the entire affair. It rocketed off towards Avengers Mansion.

The two heroes found themselves on the bridge of an alien spacecraft, one whose design seemed all too familiar to Tony Stark. "It couldn't be... It doesn't make any sense."

Lord Templar floated before them, watching their reactions. "Do you not recognize your surroundings, Avengers? I find it hard to believe that you would not recognize the handiwork of a race that you tried so hard to destroy..."

Warbird frowned as realization began to dawn over her as well. "This ship... It's Kree..."


	4. Triad Part 2

Iron Man

Chapter 4: Triad Part 2

The Kree... Iron Man's mind reeled at the implication. Mere moments ago, he and Warbird had confronted the villain Pagan in the Triune Understanding's world headquarters. The battle had gone well, until the unexpected arrival of the mysterious Lord Templar. Templar had teleported the heroes onto the bridge of a Kree starship, promising answers at long last...

"You seem confused, Iron Man." Templar's face was smug as he spoke, a thin smile on his lips.

Warbird curled her lip, anger coursing through her. She'd always been short-tempered but her fuse had grown even shorter lately -- quitting drinking hadn't helped. "Hell... I should have known the Kree would be involved somehow. What's going on -- is the Lunatic Legion out to turn earth into a bunch of ersatz Kree again?!"  
As they tried to do in the "Live Kree or Die" crossover.

Templar shook his head. "Hardly. I have been truthful to you in terms of my ultimate goal -- I seek to bring unification to the peoples of Earth. I seek to foster enlightenment amongst its peoples..."

Warbird stepped forward, cosmic energy pouring from her hands. The blast passed through Templar harmlessly, the villain merely staring it her as if she were an insect. "Bull! You're like every other two-bit supervillain in the world -- out to gain power for yourself!"

Iron Man blinked at Warbird's display. She was still such a loose cannon -- maybe he'd been wrong to bring her along. Then again, if the Kree were involved, she might be needed... Not to mention the fact that whatever had happened between them in his room yesterday had been very pleasant, if surprising.  
See last issue for the romantic liaison.

"Carol... Stop! You can't hurt him like that and we have to find out what's going on here..." Iron Man grabbed Warbird by the arms, pinning them to her sides. "Please!"

Warbird stared at him with cold fury but held her tongue. She knew what he was thinking -- that she'd flown off the handle again. But, damnit, she knew what the Kree were capable of -- better to deal with them quickly than to let them continue plotting!

"Are you quite finished, female?" Templar held their gaze for a long moment. When Iron Man nodded that Warbird would not attack again, he continued. "The Triune Understanding is not about world domination in the way that you think... rather, we are intent on bringing humanity to its next level of evolution."

Iron Man's eyes narrowed beneath his helmet. Evolution... He didn't like the sound of that. The Kree had been all-too interested in such matters for his taste, from the horror of the Kree Nega-Bomb to the recent Lunatic Legion madness. "How do the Kree factor into this? You're not a Kree..."

Templar looked away suddenly, as if listening to some far-away voice. "I must return to earth. Jonathan needs me." With no more words at all, he disappeared.

Warbird pulled away from Iron Man, glaring at him. "Damn you! I could have thought of some way to hurt him! Now we're stuck on this ship..."

Iron Man ignored her, scanning the vessel. "All the systems are still online -- this ship is in perfect working order." He moved over to one of the consoles, his eyes studying it for a moment. He was somewhat familiar with Kree technology and in less than a minute his fingers were darting across the keyboard. The viewscreen flared to life, data flying across the screen. "We're not far from earth... I could probably pilot this craft a good bit closer and --"

"THAT WILL NOT BE NECESSARY, IRON MAN. I SHALL RETURN YOU TO EARTH WHEN THE TIME IS RIGHT. IN THE MEANTIME, THIS SHIP IS NEUTRAL GROUND FOR US."

The eerie, computer-modulated voice made the hairs on the back of Tony's neck stand up. "Oh no..."

When the Armored Avenger turned around, he saw Warbird already staring at the floating head of the Supreme Intelligence. Its huge, green face shifted and changed as it moved, the many tendrils that snaked from its skull writhing in the air. Iron Man's sensors showed that this was nothing more than a hologram of some sort, meaning that the Intelligence was still being held on the Blue Area of the Moon. For that, he was thankful.  
See the "Live Kree or Die" storyline and Avengers Forever.

"THERE IS SO MUCH THAT YOU HAVE MISUNDERSTOOD... ABOUT THE TRIUNE AND ABOUT MY PLANS FOR EARTH. THE TIME FOR ANSWERS HAS COME."

Pepper Potts opened her eyes with a groan... Her head was pounding and her mouth was dry. "Happy? Where am I?" She struggled to sit up, noticing her surroundings for the first time. She was in very well-furnished bedroom, filled with feminine touches. The canopy bed on which she lay was extremely soft and its siren call of sleep almost lulled back into unconsciousness. With an effort she forced herself out of the bed. She'd called Happy's name in her confusion, but her ex-husband wasn't going to be found here, she knew. She was on her own... after Spymaster had kidnapped her. The memories rushed back to her now, making her frown with disgust. Kidnapped.  
It happened last issue.

Pepper was about to try the door when it opened for her. A familiar figure stepped inside, wearing a smoking jacket. His silver hair was brushed straight back and his eyes were distant as they roved over her body. Justin Hammer smiled at her, though the smile never reached his eyes. "Ms. Potts. I'm sorry for the manner in which you were... retrieved... but I hope you've found your accommodations acceptable."

"You're slipping, Mr. Hammer. You usually don't get your hands so dirty. Kidnapping is a major offense..."

Hammer chuckled softly. "Please, let's not exchange hostilities -- I'm actually looking to help you."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "You're so well known for your philanthropy..."

Hammer didn't reply at first. Instead, he moved over to sit on the edge of the bed. He crossed his legs primly. "It was quite a surprise when Tony Stark returned, wasn't it? What was the story he told -- of being kidnapped?"  
This was the story Stark told in Iron Man v3 # 1 in order to explain his disappearance after the Crossing.

Pepper glanced at him sharply. "Yes... He was held hostage for months. It was a horrible experience." A glint in Hammer's eye made Pepper's heart drop. What was he up to?

"What would you say, Ms. Potts, if I told you I had suspicions that the man you're currently working for may _not_ the true Tony Stark?"

"I'd say you were a liar. I've known Tony for years... There's not doubt in my mind that the man who formed Stark Solutions is Tony."

Hammer nodded sagely, slipping a hand into his smoking jacket. He withdrew a small photograph and offered it to Pepper. "This was taken just last week, in the south of France. I think you'll find it very interesting, to say the least."

Pepper took the picture after a moment's reflection. Her eyes opened wide as she stared at the face in the photo. "That's not... possible."

Hammer rose, a look of supreme triumph on his face. "But it is. One of my contacts informed me of this man's arrival there some months back. Around the same time that Tony Stark returned from his 'kidnapping.'"

Pepper was still staring at the picture. "Why send that criminal to capture me? What do I have to do with this?"

"Because, as you yourself have said, you've known Tony Stark for years -- and you certainly wouldn't have heard me out if I'd simply asked. I'm curious about this photograph because I always considered Stark a rival, one of the few I have. When he was believed dead, I felt rudderless -- my only true equal was gone. Then he returned and I felt fulfilled and challenged once more -- until this. I want to know the truth. Will you help me?"

Pepper looked at the young man pictured before her... Tony. He'd gone through the horrible Onslaught battle and been lost... Until his sudden return, at his rightful age, months ago. Pepper had never asked for much explanation and he'd never offered it -- it was enough to know that the terrible nightmare was over. But what if something was wrong...? There had to be some explanation, because the man in this photograph was Tony Stark. He looked just like him, sitting in a cafe. The only difference was that he wore a small mustache like he used to instead of the more recent goatee. To the best of her knowledge, Tony hadn't been in France in the last month let alone in the last week. As a matter of fact, he'd been in New York for the unveiling of PLATO...  
See our first two issues.

"I'll help... But I won't do anything to hurt Tony. Never."

Justin Hammer nodded. "I wouldn't ask you to. At any time you can go to Stark with your suspicions, I know that. I merely hope that, together, we can uncover the truth."

"Why the smoke and mirrors? I thought you were content to sit back and wait while the Kree evolved..." Iron Man had his armor's weapon systems ready just in case, though he didn't expect the Supreme Intelligence to attack. Once upon a time, Iron Man had taken part in a decision that still haunted the Avengers to this day -- to try and kill the Supreme Intelligence. Eventually, they'd realized that their attempt had failed but the rift it caused in the team had lasted for a long time.  
In the climax to "Galactic Storm".

The Supreme Intelligence glanced down at them, speaking in the tone one uses with small children. "THERE ARE ALWAYS PLANS WITHIN PLANS, SCHEMES WITHIN SCHEMES. THE KREE'S ENCOUNTERS WITH BOTH THE AVENGERS AND RICK JONES HAVE TAUGHT US MUCH ABOUT HUMANITY'S POTENTIAL... WHEN THE GENETIC EVOLUTION OF THE KREE IS IN PLACE, WE SHALL RECLAIM OUR SUPREMACY OF THE STARS -- AND WE SHALL NEED WEAPONS OF GREAT POWER TO SUCCEED AT THAT."

Warbird stood behind Iron Man, watching in disbelief as the Avenger carried on a civil conversation with the Intelligence -- a being who had slaughtered billions in the name of some grand biological experiment.

"I still don't understand -- why the Triune?"

"JONATHAN TREMONT IS ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL PSYCHICS YOUR WORLD HAS EVER PRODUCED... HIS POWER WAS SO GREAT THAT IT FRACTURED HIS MIND. LORD TEMPLAR REPRESENTS HIS SUPER-EGO, SEEKING TO IMPOSE ORDER AND RESTRICTION ON THE WORLD. PAGAN IS HIS ID PERSONIFIED, FULL OF IMMEDIATE DESIRES AND RAGE. TREMONT HIMSELF IS THE EGO, ALWAYS TRYING TO BALANCE THE NEEDS OF THE SUPER-EGO AND THE ID. HIS MIND CALLED OUT TO US, SEEKING AID. WE GAVE IT FREELY AND, IN TURN, FOUND A HUMAN SERVANT TO HELP US IN THE NEXT STAGE OF OUR PLAN. WE IMPLANTED WITHIN HIM THE DESIRE TO FORM THE TRIUNE UNDERSTANDING, DEDICATED TO THE UNIFICATION OF MIND, BODY AND SPIRIT. THROUGH MEDITATION AND DRUG THERAPY, TREMONT WAS TO FIND THOSE HUMAN WITH THE POTENTIAL FOR GREATNESS AND UNLOCK THEIR POWERS. THE HUMAN CALLED TRIATHLON WAS THE TRIUNE'S FIRST GREAT SUCCESS -- BUT THE DIVISION DEVOTED TO PSYCHIC AWARENESS PRODUCED MANY OF USE, AS WELL."

Iron Man shook his head -- so Tremont, Templar and Pagan were all aspects of the same being, the ultimate multiple personality. He also realized that Marianne Rodgers had fallen in with the Triune -- they must have used her in their psychic division. Having telepaths around made it extremely easy to manipulate new followers -- you always knew exactly what to say. "Marianne Rodgers found out didn't she? Somehow she broke through Tremont's defenses 

and saw the truth..."  
Marianne escaped from the Triune in Cybermancer # 1.

"INDEED. TREMONT WIPED THE INFORMATION FROM HER CONSCIOUS MIND, BUT HE FEARED THAT THE KNOWLEDGE WOULD RETURN IN TIME."

"You realize that we're going to stop you now..." Warbird's voice was harsh, energy circling her hands. "I won't stand by while you play games with people who need help! Those poor people came to the Triune seeking understanding and you used them!"

"This time, I'm with you, Carol! I've heard more than enough!" Iron Man fired his pulse-bolts. They were much more powerful than his repulsors and did more damage the farther away the target was. Warbird joined in as well, firing at the Intelligence's hologram image.

It faded, the Intelligence smiling. "RETURN TO EARTH, MY AVENGERS. THE NEXT PHASE IS ABOUT TO BEGIN."

Light surrounded both of them, Iron Man reaching out to grab Warbird's hand. "Carol! We have to be prepared for anything!"

The light disappeared, having deposited the two Avengers back in the Triune Headquarters. A crowd of people were gathered around them, their eyes looking glazed. Lord Templar floated overhead, a smile on his face. The bright glare of several news cameras caught Iron Man's eye -- he didn't like where this was going.

Tremont's voice rang out as he pointed at the two. "So! The truth comes out at last! As Lord Templar has revealed, these two are in league with those who oppose us! They fear that which they do not understand!"

"What the hell?" Warbird backed away as the crowd begun to surge forward.

Iron Man shook his head. "They're not in their right minds -- Tremont's done something to them. It's all a setup -- if we let them kill us, we're out of their hair. If we fight back, we look like the bad guys!"

The rest of Iron Man's words were drowned out as the first of the crowd threw themselves onto his back...

Happy Hogan knocked, again, on the door. His frown had deepened over the last fifteen minutes as he'd stood on Pepper's doorstep. Autumn was sweeping in early this year and it was unnaturally chilly as he waited. He glanced back at her parked car and wondered, somewhat jealously, if she'd gone out on a date.

On impulse, he reached down and tried the doorknob. It turned easily, swinging open in invitation. Immediately, he felt on edge -- Pepper never would have gone anywhere and left her door unlocked. For that matter, she wouldn't have left it unlocked under any circumstance. Years living alongside the invincible Iron Man had taught both Happy and Pepper about being careful.

Happy stepped inside cautiously. "Pepper? You home?"

The sight that greeted him chilled his blood. A flower pot turned over in the main hallway, its water long since flowed out onto the carpet. A tiny earring lay on the floor beside it. Bending over, Happy picked it up and recognized it immediately. He'd given her those earrings for their anniversary two years ago. He balled his hand into a fist. "Damn..."

Someone had hurt Pepper... and that was a direct attack on Happy, too. He wouldn't rest until he'd found her.

A strong electro-static pulse flared out from Iron Man's armor. It hummed as it held strong, holding the approaching crowd at bay. The one person who had launched himself at his back was now lying unconscious at Iron Man's feet -- he'd been tapped as gently as possible by the Armored Avenger. "Warbird, we have to get out of here. Tremont's playing us for fools."

Warbird shook her head. "You leave if you want but I'm going to settle this!" The female fury launched herself into the air, flying towards Templar.

Unfortunately, she never made it that far. Triathlon slammed into her from the side, driving her to the ground. The crowd parted as their champion crouched near her. "I can't believe it! I mean, you Avengers acted like jerks the last time you were here but I never figured you'd be in league with a guy like Pagan! How long did you practice that little fake fight of yours, huh?"

Warbird's eyes flashed. "I don't have time for you, kid. You're being duped by an alien intelligence who couldn't care less about you..." Warbird backhanded Triathlon with all her strength, sending him flying.

The neophyte hero slammed into the wall but was on his feet quickly. "The Triune's trying to help people -- all you're doing is maintaining the status quo! Can't you see, the governments of today are run by the rich and powerful! The common man is falling by the wayside! It's time for us all to reach inside and find our personal peace before it's too late -- we have to --"

"I'm sorry, son, but you're not in your right mind. I have a feeling you haven't been for some time." Iron Man's repulsor blasts slammed into Triathlon, sending the young hero to his knees.

The crowd was now falling back and Iron Man noted with interest that both Pagan and Templar had disappeared. What in the world could the Supreme Intelligence be up to? His schemes were usually so convoluted that the Avengers never knew the real story and this looked no different.

Warbird, meanwhile, was approaching Tremont. "Your lies are going to be made public, Tremont."

Jonathan Tremont, mindful of the cameras that were rolling, spread his arms and smiled. "There is no need for violence. We will forgive your transgressions -- our hearts are in alignment with our spirits and our bodies. The Triune can forgive anything."

Warbird detected a sudden upsurge of energy from Tremont -- expecting some form of attack, she made the first move. Energy shot out from her hands and hit Tremont, causing him to scream in agony. Warbird immediately broke off her assault, surprise on her features -- she certainly hadn't hit him with enough force to do anything more than knock him out. Nonetheless, there he was -- writhing in agony on the floor. Smoke rose from his body.

Iron Man's eyes went wide and he immediately generated an electro-magnetic pulse to freeze the cameras. Something was dangerously wrong -- he flew over the heads of the now stunned crowd and landed by Tremont's side. "Carol! What the hell were you doing?!"

Warbird could only stare at her hands. "I... didn't mean to... I didn't..."

Iron Man's sensors scanned Tremont's vitals and he lowered his head. "I'm afraid I understand. No matter what we say, the Triune's won..."

Warbird knelt beside him. "What do you mean? He's okay, isn't he?"

Iron Man glanced at her. "No, he's not. That increase in energy at the end -- he was committing suicide."

"But why?!"

"I'm willing to bet that the Supreme Intelligence planted a little suggestion in his head -- that the one thing every group, every religion, needs in order to thrive... is a martyr."

"You killed him! You lousy, stinking --" Triathlon had recovered enough to stagger towards the fallen body of his mentor.

Warbird glanced up at him. "It wasn't like that. He --"

Iron Man put a hand on her shoulder. "He's not going to listen. Not until we show him the proof."

Triathlon balled his fists, ready to strike. "And how are you gonna do that, tin man? What could you possibly show me that would make up for this?!"

Iron Man straightened. "I'm going to take you to the Blue Area of the Moon, Delroy -- and you can talk to the being responsible face-to-face."


	5. Triad Part 3

Iron Man

Chapter 5: Triad Part 3

"I think you'll go down as one of the greatest criminals in the late 20th century..." Triathlon's voice was tinged with bitterness, tears welling in his eyes. Only hours before, he'd witnessed firsthand the death of Jonathan Tremont -- founder of the Triune Understanding and Triathlon's personal mentor. The pain had only swollen in the time since.  
It happened last issue.

Triathlon was joined by Iron Man and Warbird onboard one of the Avengers modified Quinjets, currently suspended far above the earth as the trio headed for the mysterious Blue Area of the Moon. Warbird, the woman he held responsible for Tremont's death, was seated across from him. When he spoke, her face drew tight and grim. "You're an idiot, Delroy, if you really believe I killed him. It was a setup -- he sacrificed himself so he could become a martyr to the cause. I'm no murderer. Iron Man tried to make that clear to you..."

Tony Stark ignored the conversation going on behind him, instead focusing on steering the Quinjet along its course. The ship could fly itself for the most part, but he enjoyed the opportunity to lose himself in the technology before him. Machinery and science had always calmed his mind and he needed some quiet time right now -- the death of Tremont was shocking, to be sure, but the incident between him and Carol was even worse. What had he been thinking? To top it all off, he felt guilty for not remaining back on Earth with the Avengers. Given all that had happened with Satannish and Wanda, the Avengers were in a bad way these days.  
See Iron Man # 3.  
See Avengers # 1-3.

He felt Carol's hand on his armored shoulder. She leaned forward to stare out the viewport. The moon hung like a silver-gray ball before them. "It's gorgeous, isn't it? I saw lots of sights like this when I was with the Starjammers. The galaxy's bigger than you could ever imagine."

Iron Man nodded, somewhat uncomfortable by how close she was to him. Her blonde hair had fallen across his shoulder and hung in his line of vision. Distinctly, he could smell her perfume, mixed with the scent of her soap and flesh. "I've done my share of space travel, but you're right -- sometimes I'm struck by how insignificant we seem to be."

Carol slid into the chair next to him, letting out a long sigh. "God, I hope we get there soon -- another few seconds with wonder boy back there and I might throttle him."

"He's just upset...Tremont gave him a purpose when he was down on his luck. I'd probably be angry, too, if I were in his place." Carol turned away from him for a moment and her voice lost some of its conviction. "I'm just glad that your armor has a camera inside it -- with no other videotape of the incident, I could have been portrayed like a killer in the press."

Iron Man saw the surface of the moon coming into view and moved the Quinjet towards the Blue Area of the moon. SHIELD living stations could be seen even from this distance. "I added a mini-camera to my armor for situations just like this. It's shielded so that my EM-pulses don't disrupt it..."

"People are still going to blame me. Just take a look at Triathlon."

"Some will. There might even be an investigation from the authorities -- but it's clear enough that the energy started to swell around him before you fired."

Carol looked back at him and Tony was surprised to see tears in her eyes. "Tony...when we get back home...I'm ready to get help. For real."

Iron Man nodded. "You know it's for the best, Carol. I'll be there with you every step of the way."

"I know. I don't like it, but I know. Tony..."

Iron Man glanced at her, his concern apparent even through the metal mask he wore. "Yes?"

"I love you as a friend but what happened between us... It just happened. I'm not sure that --"

Tony held up a gauntlet to silence her. "I know what you mean. Me too."

Warbird nodded, looking back towards the viewport. Iron Man watched her for a moment before doing the same. He hoped that the rest of the day would go as smoothly as this had...

Rain fell in a steady drizzle over Seattle, Washington. For Happy Hogan, the weather perfectly suited his mood. He stared out the window of the Stark Solutions office with a somber gaze. "Where do you think he is, Rhodey?"

"Halfway to the moon by now, I'd think." James 'Rhodey' Rhodes sat behind his desk, his fingers laced together in front of him. "Look, Hap, I sent the message through, telling him to call the office as soon as possible -- I guess he's been too busy to answer it. It's understandable -- the guy's just gone toe-to-toe with the Triune Understanding."

"Did you tell him that Pepper's missing?"  
Pepper Potts was kidnapped in Iron Man # 3.

"No...I just told him to call us. The man's busy, Hap, and he can only handle one crisis at a time."

Happy Hogan turned to face Rhodey with a mixture of pain and resignation on his face. "I should have been there. If I hadn't screwed up our marriage in the first place, I would have been."

"You can't beat yourself up over this...marriages break up every day. It's nobody's fault."

"That's easy for you to say...it's not your ex-wife who's missing."

Iron Man stared at the head floating before him, with its green tentacles and deep-seated eyes. The Supreme Intelligence gazed down upon them, a sense of deep satisfaction evident on its alien features. "That's the real mastermind behind the Triune Understanding, Delroy...an alien dictator who's willing to kill billions of his own people in order to fulfill some grand scheme."

Triathlon stared with mouth agape. Since having his metahuman potential unleashed by the Triune, he'd seen and done some amazing things -- but he never dreamed he'd be standing on the moon, face-to-face with the leader of an alien civilization. The enormity of it all seemed a bit too much for him, Tony reasoned. "No way...and he's green, too. The Triune was run by little green men from outer space..."

Iron Man stepped forward, cutting off Triathlon before the neophyte hero could further embarrass himself. "Are you satisfied, Intelligence? Tremont's dead...and your little cult has its first martyr."

The Supreme Intelligence rumbled his reply. "YOUR INDIGNATION DOES YOU CREDIT, IRON MAN, BUT JONATHAN TREMONT GLADLY SACRIFICED HIMSELF FOR THE CAUSE. HE UNDERSTOOD THE IMPORTANCE OF BRINGING UNDERSTANDING TO THE PEOPLE OF EARTH."

Warbird grunted in disgust. "Oh, please. He was a man who couldn't handle his own powers...you used him. He was nothing but a pawn."

"INDIVIDUAL LIVES ARE UNIMPORTANT. THE CHOICES THAT I HAVE MADE ARE DESIGNED TO IMPROVE THE FUTURE OF THE KREE RACE. IN YOUR BRIEF EXISTENCE, YOU SHALL NEVER GRASP THE FULL MAGNITUDE OF WHAT I HAVE DONE."

Triathlon shook his head, disbelief flooding over him. "I can't believe it...it was all a lie?"

"YOU ARE WRONG TO ASSUME SUCH, DELROY GARRETT. THE TRIUNE'S MESSAGE IS A VALID ONE AND ONE THAT WILL HELP PROPEL MANKIND INTO THE NEW MILLENNIUM."

Triathlon shook with rage. "You lousy --! Mr. Tremont was too good to be used like this!" He crouched, ready to spring in attack against the Supreme Intelligence.

Iron Man reached out quickly and grabbed Triathlon, holding him in place. "Whoa! You can't do this, Delroy -- no matter how tempting it is."

Triathlon stared into Iron Man's faceplate. "That green bastard perverted everything I believed in! He played me for a chump!"

Warbird placed a strong hand on Triathlon's shoulder. "No, he didn't. All those things they taught you -- about peace and understanding, those things are real. The people behind it might have been corrupt but the ideals...the ideals you can still believe in."

Iron Man nodded. "She's right. The best thing you can do is practice what Tremont preached. Walk away from this -- take what you can from the experience and get stronger."

Triathlon stopped struggling and slowly nodded. "Yeah...yeah, I guess you're right."

Iron Man glanced up at the smug face of the Supreme Intelligence. "One of these days, your luck's going to run out. One of these schemes is going to backfire and --"

The world fell away around the Golden Avenger. Blackness enveloped him and Tony Stark felt his equilibrium tilt dramatically. He slowly spun like a top through the void. "What in the world?" Checking his senses, Iron Man saw that they clearly showed he was back in the Blue Area of the moon, right where he was supposed to be... "An illusion, then. What are you trying to pull, Intelligence?"

"THINK OF THIS MERELY AS A WARNING, IRON MAN. THE AVENGERS HAVE PROVEN TO BE ABLE WARRIORS IN THE PAST AND SOON THE KREE SHALL HAVE NEED OF THEM ONCE MORE..."

Iron Man bristled with pride. "The Avengers are nobody's soldiers, Intelligence! We're not going to do your dirty work!"

"SILENCE, AVENGER! THE WORDS I AM SPEAKING MAY VERY WELL SAVE YOUR RACE FROM EXTINCTION!"

Iron Man bit his tongue, holding back the torrent of curses that were rising to his mind. He hated feeling helpless, always using technology to try and master his environment. Against the Supreme Intelligence, he felt that sickly feeling in his stomach again -- the one that always accompanied instances where his brains and brawn did him no good. "Go on and get it over with, Intelligence...but you'd better make it good."

"AN ARMADA IS MASSING BEYOND THE SHI'AR BORDERS. I HAVE SENSED THEIR INTENTIONS AND IT IS NOTHING LESS THAN THE ENSLAVEMENT OF ALL THEY COME ACROSS."

Iron Man's eyes narrowed. Something in the Intelligence's tone made him pause...was it concern? For himself or for his people, Tony wondered...

"Why not just warn the Shi'ar -- or any of the other spacefaring races? Why me?"

"BECAUSE ONE WHO IS KNOWN TO THE AVENGERS IS AT THE HEAD OF THE ARMADA. ONE WHO SEEKS TO STAMP HER NAME ACROSS THE GALAXY IN BLAZING LETTERS..."

Iron Man saw the darkness fall around him, revealing in its place the bridge of a powerful spacecraft. Aliens of all types moved about, some of which were familiar to Iron Man. He spotted several Shi'ar and even a few Kree amongst the mix.

At the center of the bridge stood a woman with pale blue skin. Her body appeared to have been poured into a skintight bodysuit, one that accentuated her every curve. Iron Man couldn't help but blurt out her name when he saw her... "Nebula!"

The scene about him did not change and Iron Man reminded himself that what he was seeing was, in fact, only an illusion created by the Intelligence.

"YES...NEBULA -- THE DAUGHTER OF ZORR, WHOSE MAD REIGN OF TERROR HELPED RICHARD RIDER GAIN THE POWERS OF A NOVA CENTURION. SHE HAS FORMED A FLEET COMPRISED OF THE DISILLUSIONED AND OUTCAST, A ROVING BAND OF CRIMINALS WHOSE SAVAGERY SHALL BECOME THE STUFF OF LEGENDS. I CALCULATE THAT THEY SHALL ARRIVE AT THE FIRST SHI'AR OUTPOST WITHIN THE MONTH."  
Waaaaaaaay back in Nova v1 # 1.

"But how could she have formed such a large fleet?"

"SHE HAS ALLIES, AVENGER, ONES THAT HAVE SOUGHT REFUGE FROM THE HORRORS OF THEIR FUTURE. THEIR IDENTITY MAY BE KNOWN TO YOU, THOUGH THEY HAVE CHANGED MUCH...THEY ARE KNOWN AS THE STARK!"  
Last seen in Iron Man v1 # 281.

"What's happening?" Triathlon stared at the unmoving Iron Man with rising alarm. Iron Man and the Supreme Intelligence had both fallen silent moments before.

"I don't know, but I'm guessing that the Intelligence has something to do with it..." Warbird moved towards the now quiet form of the Intelligence, unaware of the mental dialogue going on between the Golden Avenger and the Kree overlord. "Intelligence! Leave Iron Man alone or --"

"OR WHAT, HALF-BREED?" The voice from her left surprised her, making her turn in alarm. The figure who stood there was green-skinned and had a head topped by the same sort of swirling tentacles that marked the Supreme Intelligence's appearance... "THE ARMORED AVENGER IS IN NO DANGER, I ASSURE YOU."

Warbird gritted her teeth. She hadn't seen this manifestation of the Supreme Intelligence in years -- Supremor. The two beings shared knowledge but Supremor was more brusque and direct than his spiritual father. "Supremor. I'm surprised the Intelligence hasn't tired of you by now."

"I SERVE A PURPOSE, CAROL DANVERS. AS DO WE ALL." Supremor raised his right hand, holding a strange Kree device tightly.

Triathlon didn't need much experience to recognize a weapon when he saw it. Putting his distaste for Warbird aside, he jumped forward and drove a fist hard into Supremor's side. The green-skinned creature staggered but got off a shot as he went down.

The energy beam sped towards Warbird, who made no move to get out of its path. "An energy weapon? You must have lost your touch, Supremor. I can absorb --"

Carol's words, and all of the thoughts that accompanied them, were lost forever as the beam struck her. Rather than being absorbed and channeled by her mutated cells, the energy seemed to grow within her. She howled in agony, making Triathlon blink in confusion. He shielded his eyes from her as she was suddenly suffused by blinding light.

Supremor smiled. "YOU SHOULD THANK ME, FEMALE. YOUR SERVICE TO THE KREE IS NOT YET AT AN END, THOUGH YOUR CURRENT POWER LEVELS DO NOT SUFFICE...FEEL THEN, THE RETURN OF YOUR FULL POTENTIAL!"

Carol Danvers felt infinity brush her mind. Her eyes turned dark, speckled with the stars themselves. She could...hear...the galaxy around her. She recognized what was happening, the searing pain/pleasure of near-omnipotence that accompanied her Binary powers. With the strength of will that had always been her calling card, she forced the background noise to fade out, leaving her weak and tired. The last embers of energy fluttered away.

Triathlon was speaking to her, though at first she didn't hear him. "...okay? Warbird! Are you okay?"

Carol nodded dumbly for a moment, before she felt her rejuvenated energy begin to wash over her. She rose, a smile on her face. "He did it. I don't know why, but he did it. I've got my powers back. Every last one of them!"

Triathlon frowned, glancing back at the still-silent Iron Man. None of this made sense to him, not the truth about the Triune Understanding, not this Supreme Intelligence business...nothing. He was overwhelmed.

Iron Man suddenly glanced around himself, seeing the look of ecstasy on Carol's face and the expression of utter befuddlement on Delroy's. He also spotted Supremor sliding into the shadows. "What did I miss?"

Warbird flew towards Iron Man, landing just short of him. "I've got my Binary powers back! I'm cured!"

Iron Man winced. The Intelligence must have given them back so that she could help him against Nebula and the Stark when they came...always using us pawns, he mused. "Good for you. Delroy -- you okay?"

Triathlon balled his fists and nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. Not much I can do here, since you won't let me pull the plug on the green guy."

"Delroy...I know you're not in the mood right now, but I want you to know that Mr. Stark could use you at Stark Solutions if you need a place to stay."

Triathlon nodded. "Yeah. Maybe. I need some time first, to get over being a fool. To decide if the Triune still has anything left to give me..."

Iron Man glanced up the smug, satisfied face of the Supreme Intelligence. There was no doubt that the Intelligence had won -- he'd created a martyr for the Triune Understanding, he'd convinced Iron Man to investigate the threat of the Stark and he'd manipulated Carol yet again. "One of these days, mister, I'm going to take you down for good..."

EPILOGUE

The small room was crowded and quiet, the silence broken only by the occasional cough. Carol Danvers had never felt so humiliated, but the presence of Tony at her side gave her strength. When her turn came, she rose from her seat slowly, feeling like a little girl admitting to a crime. "Hi," she began, "my name is...Carol Danvers...and I have a problem. I'm an alcoholic."

Carol glanced around the room, expecting to see some form of condemnation for her admission. Instead, she found a room full of understanding people.

Tony Stark watched with a soft smile on his face. She'd taken the first step...and he thought she'd be okay eventually, now that she'd faced her problem. When she looked in his direction, he nodded encouragingly. The process of healing had begun.


	6. Masques A Story Of Mystery

Iron Man

Chapter 6: Masques A Story Of Mystery

"This is the last time I'm going to ask you -- Where is Pepper Potts?!" Iron Man's repulsor blasts whined through the air, striking Spymaster hard on the flank. The international terrorist groaned loudly, his hands immediately going to his injured limb. Iron Man strode forward, stepping over the prone bodies of Spymaster's flunkies -- there'd been twelve of them when the Armored Avenger had arrived at Spymaster's hidden lair, but none of them had made it through Iron Man's initial assault.

Spymaster gritted his teeth. He wasn't the first to bear the name Spymaster, but he was determined that he was going to live to be the best. Normally, guys like Iron Man didn't kill -- but the way he was carrying on today, that was no certainty at the moment. "Stark's been yanking your chain again, Shellhead? Sent you out to fetch his lost secretary? Well, you're too late, Avenger -- she's already been turned over to my employer. I don't have her."

Iron Man picked up Spymaster and drew up a gauntleted fist. "I know you don't have her -- but I want to know who does. And if I don't like your answer, there's going to be hell to pay..."

Spymaster briefly weighed the importance of his professional ethics against the potential pain of Iron Man's blow. In the end, his own self-interest won out. "Hammer. Justin Hammer."

Tony Stark, the man beneath the mask, felt a chill go through him. Of all his enemies, Hammer was one of the worst... and Tony couldn't help but feel that Pepper's current situation was all his fault. She'd been kidnapped while Iron Man was investigating the Triune Understanding -- if he'd back in Seattle with his friends, he might have been able to prevent it. Still, he'd learned a long time ago that he couldn't be in two places at once...

PARIS, FRANCE

Pepper Potts stared through the binoculars and felt her heart thud in her chest. "It looks like him alright -- but it can't be." Before her, seated in a cafe with a gorgeous redhead at his side, was a man who looked just like Tony Stark.

Justin Hammer stood beside her on the Paris rooftop, his silver hair perfectly in place. He had brought Pepper Potts here for a very particular reason -- to verify whether or not the man before them was indeed Tony Stark. "Ms. Potts, there must be some reason why Tony Stark is currently in Seattle at the same time that an identical man is here in Paris. One or both of them are fakes. If you want my opinion, I think they both are. The real Tony Stark is six feet under."

Pepper lowered the binoculars and glanced at Hammer, her face set. "I've been working with Tony ever since he came back and I _know_ that the man who founded Stark Enterprises is the real deal."

Hammer raised an eyebrow. When he spoke, his voice trembled with emotion. "If you're so certain of that fact, then why did you accompany me? The truth is, Ms. Potts, is that you have doubts yourself. When Iron Man disappeared fighting Onslaught and Tony Stark was allegedly kidnapped, the world mourned their deaths. I did the same -- for my own reasons. Stark has been a rival to me for years, one of the few men I regard as an equal. I won't have his memory sullied by lookalikes."

Pepper didn't know what to say at first -- the thought that Justin Hammer would go to great lengths to protect Tony's memory made little sense to her. The man had tried to kill Iron Man on a number of occasions and to ruin Tony financially, as well. "Are you sure that this isn't some scheme of yours -- it'd make sense. Cast doubt on Tony's identity, then swoop in to pick up the pieces yourself."

"Believe what you want -- as long as you can help me discern this man's identity."

Pepper looked away, running a hand through her hair. "Why not just send Spymaster or another of your goons to kidnap him? You could do DNA testing on him, prove it yourself -- without having to rely on my intuition."

Hammer grunted. He reached into the pocket of his blazer and pulled out a small transmitter. He thumbed the switch and said, "This is Hammer...Where's our Golden Boy?"

The voice that replied was clear as crystal, with no signs of static whatsoever. "He's coming your way, sir. He's been doing regular flyovers for the past two hours -- he's really paranoid about something happening to his boss, I think."

Pepper looked up suddenly as she heard the familiar whine of bootjets approaching. Her eyes went wide. "Oh, no..."

Squinting, she saw Him approaching. He soared through the air like a red-and-gold god, one that glinted in the sun. He slowed as he passed over the cafe where 'Stark' was eating, then sped up again as he moved into the distance. The armor was familiar to Happy -- it was the classic design, the one he'd worn longest of all and the one that was most identified with him. "Iron Man. He's got his own Iron Man," she whispered.

Hammer leaned forward, close enough so that Pepper could feel his breath in her ear. "That, Ms. Potts -- is why I haven't kidnapped him..."

TWO HOURS LATER

Tony Stark stared the robotic face on the screen before him. It was Jocasta, once a member of the mighty Avengers but now confined to being a bodiless artificial intelligence. She'd become an integral part of Stark Solutions since her return, making an obvious place to turn in Stark's quest to help Pepper. Now, though, he could only look incredulous. "Are you _sure_?!"

Jocasta's features never wavered. "The airport surveillance video is quite clear -- Ms. Potts was in the company of Justin Hammer when he arrived to board his private jet. From all 

indications, she was with him willingly and there were no signs that she was being held against her will."

Tony leaned back and pursed his lips. Could Pepper have been drugged or coerced into going with Hammer somehow, despite the video? It was easy enough in this day and age to come up with means of mind control, after all... "Any idea on where Hammer was going?"

Jocasta paused only briefly as she scanned through a dozen different computer sources. "Mr. Hammer is currently staying at the Grande Hotel in Paris -- Ms. Potts has registered in a separate room and paid with her own credit card."

"Dial her room number. I want to hear what she has to say."

Jocasta did so without comment, while Tony stewed over the turns his life had taken. He knew that going after the Triune Understanding had been the right thing to do, especially in light of how they'd mistreated Marianne Rodgers. But he couldn't shake the feeling that if Pepper got hurt, it was his fault somehow. _I can't be everywhere, no matter how hard I try. It's a lesson I should have learned years ago -- but it's hard when it's my enemies who are striking at my friends._

"Hello?" Pepper's voice sounded tired and worried, but not nearly as bad as Tony had expected. Actually, he hadn't expected her to be in a position of answering her own phone at all.

"Pepper! Are you okay?"

The pause on the other end made his heart skip, but when she answered she sounded calm and determined. "Tony, listen to me. I know you're worried about me but I'm fine. Tell Happy the same thing. I'm here because I want to be here."

"You _want_ to be with Justin Hammer? Sorry, Pepper, but I find that hard to believe. This man sent Spymaster to kidnap you...!"

"I know that, but things have changed since then. Please -- promise me that you won't come after me and that you'll make Hap do the same. Please, Tony. If you value our friendship at all..."

Something in Pepper's voice, the stringent tone of sincerity, made Tony nod slowly. He couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his own mouth, "If... if that's what you want. But I'm going to keep checking in on you -- every day. If anything makes me suspicious..."

A sigh of relief escaped from Pepper as she spoke. "Yes. That's fine. Thank you, Tony. I'll be back soon..."

The connection was silenced so quickly that it made Tony blink in surprise. He felt like his world was tumbling out of control -- first the transformation of Wanda into Nexus, the disappearance of Captain America and now this... So many of his friends who were in need of help. "I'll respect your decision for now, Pepper. But if you're not back in a few days, I'm 

going to talk to Hammer face-to-face."

The woman known only as Masque stood over the dead woman's body, a sense of cold satisfaction in her heart. She knelt, reaching out to the gold mask with covered the other woman's face -- it was identical to Masque's. Masque stared into the mask for a long moment, trying to remember long-forgotten details. The purpose of her mission was obvious -- she wanted to kill all the usurpers to her name and identity. Beyond that, however, things were sometimes murky.

She stared at the computer monitor that rested on the dead woman's desk. It showed a clear image of Tony Stark, taken from the Stark Enterprises website. Without a word, Masque swung her fist out in an arc, connecting with the monitor and sending it crashing to the floor. There were days that the very thought of Tony Stark made her weak with emotion, but at other times he could fill her with a bitter rage. She hadn't seen him or the Avengers since just after the Crossing affair and had no desire to do so in the near future. Stark was part of a past that she could barely remember at this point.

Masque stepped over her doppleganger's body and moved to the window. It still stood open from where she had first entered. The night air was crisp her in Seattle, with the hint of rain in the air. A storm was coming. A big one.

Pepper Potts was asleep, but her dreams were troubled. She saw Tony Stark, cold and heartless, using his armor to battle the Avengers. She hadn't been there during that portion of his life, when it appeared that Kang had manipulated Iron Man into betraying his friends, but she could visualize it easily enough. Was this doppleganger related? Was this some loose thread from the Crossing that had never been cut?

"Pepper? Wake up..."

The voice seemed to reach through her slumber and grab hold of her mind. She opened them immediately and looked up into the face of Tony Stark. She quickly pulled the sheets tighter against her. "Tony?! What are you doing here? You promised me...!"

The surprise she saw in Tony's eyes caused realization to dawn over her. This wasn't _her_ Tony, not the one she'd been working for these last few months. She scurried away from him.

Tony held up his hands to calm her. "Pep, calm down. I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't seen you in ages."

Pepper narrowed her eyes. "Who are you really? You can't be Tony Stark. You can't be."

"But I am. You want a DNA sample? I guarantee you'll find out that I am who I say I am. I'm Tony Stark."

"But...how?"

Tony leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Where I come from, you're dead. I killed you four years ago and left your body in a shallow ravine."

Pepper rolled out of bed quickly, standing away from him. The madness she heard in his voice sounded genuine. "That proves it. You're not Tony. Get out now or I scream."

Tony Stark smiled. "Go right ahead, love. Scream all you want."

Pepper was about to take him up on that offer when the whine of repulsors drowned out her words. The window and wall of the hotel room blew inwards, sending her to the floor. The metal figure who hung in the air outside spoke with a booming voice. "You ready to leave this dump behind, boss?"

Stark nodded. "I think so, Rhodey. It apears that Pepper's been knocked out -- grab her and let's go before Hammer arrives."

"You got it, boss. We going back to the hotel?"

"Briefly, yes. I'll make a call and then we're leaving, with Pepper as my guest. I always felt regret that I killed her so soon..."

Tony Stark was in his lab, the one place on Earth that he felt truly at home. He lifted the visor protecting his face and stared at the armor which hung suspended before him. He was constantly tinkering and upgrading his battlesuit, but from time to time he did complete overhauls -- in effect, creating an entirely new armor, with its own look and feel. That time was approaching again. If he was right, this new armor would be the fastest and most powerful yet...

Jocasta's voice brought him back from his musings. "The Wasp wishes to speak with you, Tony."

"Patch her through, Jocasta. Thanks."

Tony stepped over to the viewscreen and watched as Janet Van Dyne's face appeared. She was extremely beautiful and Tony remembered fondly when he had tried to give it a go between them. It hadn't worked out but he considered Jan one of his truest friends. "Avengers business, Jan?"

Janet's face showed the strain of recent days. "You could say that. I hate to bother you but, well, you know how Cap has been missing lately?"

"Yes. Still no word from him?"

"No -- but he _has_ been sighted several times. From what I've heard, this might not be Steve in the costume."

Tony frowned. Had the government tried to steal Steve Rogers' costume away from him again? "You want me to look into it?"

"If you would. Things are still so hectic here and--"

"No problem, Jan. I'll investigate it. I'll report back as soon as I find out something."

The man who claimed to be Tony Stark smiled into the viewscreen. "We'll be there in a few hours, darling. I'm bringing a guest, too -- hope you don't mind."

The woman on the screen -- bearing the face of Suzi Endo -- frowned. "Suit yourself, Tony. But don't make any mistakes. My plans with the Mandarin are coming to fruition and I don't want you causing trouble."  
Tony looked hurt. "Trouble? Moi? Never!"

Suzi Endo shrugged. "You're too beautiful to hate, Tony. When you arrive, let me know. The Mandarin has a place where you can stay."

Tony nodded. "When are we making our move? I'm tired of keeping a low-profile here. I'm ready to take out this other Stark..."

"Very soon. I promise. This world's Iron Man and Cybermancer will never know what hit them!"


	7. Patriot Games

Iron Man

Chapter 7: Patriot Games

Tony Stark was hovering high in the air, his eyes narrowed as he studied the careful movements of the man below him. The man wore the dramatic red, white and blue of Captain America and was stealthily approaching a group of thugs who were culminating a drug deal in one of the many Manhattan alleyways. If Tony hadn't been so close to Steve Rogers, he might have even been fooled. The faux-Captain America moved with fluid movements, barely making a sound as he crept up on his prey. The shield he held on his arm looked perfectly in place, giving evidence of long hours spent practicing with the circular weapon. _You're good, son. But how good?_

Captain America moved up to the entrance of the alley, keeping the shadows around him. He could hear the street chatter of the men before him and he tried to calm the beating of his heart. No matter how long he'd trained, honing his body and his reflexes for this sort of thing, he still suffered from a small amount of nerves before throwing himself into battle. What if this was the time that he made a mistake, slipped up somehow?

Cap set his jaw and forced those thoughts out of his mind. Captain America didn't have doubts, he believed in himself and his principles above all else. With that mantra repeating in his mind, the latest man to wear the proud name of Captain America stepped into the breach.

"Practicing a little bit of free enterprise, gentlemen?"

The strong, confident voice rang out in the still night air, impressing even the still-unseen Iron Man. _He's certainly got the voice down pat -- Who the heck is this guy? He's not USAgent, the moves are all wrong..._

Captain America, for his part, was quickly dispatching the men below. His shield flew through the air, ricocheting off a wall to strike down one of the drug dealers before he could even draw his weapon. While that was happening, Cap blocked a blow from the nearest thug, kicking out with his own leg. The blow sent the man down hard and left Cap facing the remaining two.

"Surrender?"

The taller of the two smiled, revealing a sparkling gold tooth. His hand drifted towards the interior of his jacket. "Surrender? Yeah, sure, we surrender..."

Just as his gun appeared, the shield completed its return trip to Captain America, striking the man in the back of the skull. His eyes rolled back into his head as he tilted forward into the Sentinel of Liberty's arms.

The other gentleman threw his hands into the air. His eyes were wide with awe. "Geez... I can't believe it! I've been busted by Captain America! You saved my grandpa's life back in WW II!"

Cap nodded, reaching for the man's hand. He placed a pair of handcuffs on his wrists, mumuring. "I'm sure your grandfather would be very disappointed in you..."

Captain America looked up suddenly, watching as Iron Man descended from above and faded into view.

_How did he know I was here? My armor was in stealth mode -- he shouldn't have been able to see or hear me!_ "Need a hand, Cap?"

"No thanks, Shellhead." Captain America stepped away, his eyes betraying his momentary confusion. The look quickly passed, however, to be replaced by a knowing expression of confidence. "Actually, you can handle things from here, I'm sure."

Iron Man landed in front of Captain America, blocking his exit from the alleyway. "How about I radio the police while you and I go someplace to chat?"

Captain America attempted to brush past the armored Avenger. "No thanks. I've got a schedule to keep."

Iron Man's gauntlet came to rest on Captain America's chest. When he spoke, his tone made it quite clear that he would brook no discussion on the matter. "You're not going anywhere until I get some answers. Is that clear?"

Captain America's hand came up quickly, swatting aside Iron Man's arm. "Don't touch me."

Iron Man leaned forward, his voice low. "I'm going to do more than touch you if I find out you've done something to the real Captain America..."

Captain America smiled somewhat, an enigmatic expression that made Iron Man wonder what he was thinking. "Fine. We'll talk, Avenger. But not here -- someplace more secluded."

Iron Man nodded, allowing the man to pass. _I'm going to get some answers out of you if it's the last thing I do..._

The man known as the Mandarin ran his hand over the smooth, supple flesh of Suzi Endo. Bits of circuitry and tubing extended from beneath her skin at various points but it was hardly disturbing to the Mandarin. He'd seen horrors far beyond what most mortals could withstand.

Endo purred, pushing her nude body closer to the Mandarin's, their forms wrapped tightly in a blanket. "It's about to begin isn't it?" She brought her lips to the Mandarin's chin, biting softly.

The Mandarin reached up and grabbed her hair hard, making her wince. "Yes... but never forget that you are not my equal. I suspect you've forgotten your place of late."

"You're wrong, my love... I know my place very well. It's at your side, with the bloodied bodies of Tony Stark and this world's Suzi Endo at our feet!"

The Mandarin released his grip on her and rose from the bed. Somehow, even though he was unclothed, he still had the bearing of a King. His eyes flashed as he spoke, his back to the 

girl. "I've failed too many times in the past because I underestimated my enemies. This time, there can be no mistakes on my part -- none. You have proven useful to me, but you are still expendable."

Suzi laughed suddenly, a mirthless sound that grated on the Mandarin's nerves. He whirled about to see her sitting up in the bed. Her lean form was enticing, despite the lack of respect shown by her actions. "You are so pompous! Stark has bested you time and again because he is the better man! That is why you need a _woman_ like myself to turn the tide!"

The eldritch blast struck in a heartbeat. It flared out from around the Mandarin's hands, enveloping Suzi Endo in its grasp. She screamed for a moment, sounding as if her very soul were being rended from her body. Her face quickly resumed its former state of confidence, however, as she mentally turned off her pain receptors. There were advantages to being a cyborg, after all... "You dare?! Stark is the only man in this world who may prove a challenge but he is _not_ the better man! He shall _never_ be the better man! I am the Mandarin! I am fit to rule over _all_!"

Suzi wiped her lip with the back of her hand, glancing at the small amount of blood that remained there. His energy blast had hurt her, but she'd be damned if she'd show him that. "I didn't mean to offend you, lover. I apologize... Sometimes you mistake my playfulness for more than it is."

The Mandarin ignored her, picking up a robe and putting it on. Her words had struck a nerve deep within him and he was troubled. He knew he couldn't truly trust her -- in all the world, the only one he could truly trust was himself -- but she had spoken what she truly believed. That Tony Stark was his superior...

Those words ate away at his brain. _This time, old enemy, our battles will come to an end. There shall be a clear victor... and only one of us shall walk away._

"So who the hell are you?"

Captain America frowned at Iron Man's words. He knew from the files that Iron Man was frequently described as arrogant and imperious, but he had no idea of the extent of it. He reigned in his own temper, gazing out over the city's rooftops. The two men were standing on the top of the Daily Bugle building, each alone in his thoughts. "I can't answer that."

"Why not?"

"Because St-- the previous Captain America told me not to."

Iron Man pointed a finger at the man before him. "So you're telling me you know what happened to the real Captain America? Where is he?"

"Look, Iron Man, I know that the previous Captain America respected you -- and because of that I'm going to tell you this one thing : I'm not doing this on a lark. I've trained for it and I'm ready. I understand you're concerned about your friend but I don't deserve the third degree."

Iron Man nodded. "I don't mean to interrogate you...from what I've heard, you're doing a good job filling in for Cap. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to try and find out what happened to him. If I have to drag you in to the Avengers, I will. He's got a lot of good friends worried."

Captain America shrugged his shoulders in apparent resignation. "If you feel it's necessary, let's go see the Avengers, then."

Iron Man made a move to clasp Captain America's arm, intending to carry him in flight. What happened instead was so quick that it left even the battle-hardened Avenger in confusion. Captain America's shield arm came up, driving the shield into Iron Man's faceplate and knocking him off-balance. A sense of momentary confusion washed over Tony Stark, as if something or someone was scrambling his mind.

"You're going to regret that, kid..." Iron Man shook his head to clear it and spotted Captain America, already several rooftops away. The ersatz Sentinel of Liberty was leaping and twisting through the air in a more-than-passable imitation of Steve Rogers. Iron Man launched himself into the air, eager to move into pursuit. Though he'd never admit it, Stark was itching for a fight. In recent days he'd found himself outsmarted by the Supreme Intelligence, involved in the revamping of the formerly defunct Avengers West Coast branch, and helpless while Pepper Potts traipsed around the world with one of his deadliest enemies. To say his mood was black would be an understatement.

Repulsor-blasts narrowly missed Captain America. The red-white-and-blue clad hero dodged them at the last second again and again, as if he were able to predict where and when the blasts would come. _There's more to you than meets the eye, isn't there?_ Iron Man mused. _Even years of training wouldn't make you this good -- if I didn't know better, I'd swear..._Tony Stark grinned beneath his helmet. _Gotcha._

Captain America threw himself off the roof and towards a traffic-congested intersection. He jumped over several cars and threaded through the traffic with ease. In his mind, he knew that he had to escape -- somehow.

Iron Man increased his speed, flying ahead of his quarry. He turned back to face him just as Captain America moved onto the sidewalk, his shield raised in defense. Iron Man saw a look of realization pass through the younger man's eyes._ You know what I'm doing, don't you? But it's too late, pal. Way too late._

Iron Man activated his psychic bafflers, devices implanted in his helmet for one purpose only -- to help protect the Armored Avenger against telepaths. The devices ran at minimum power all the time, springing into action only when the Avenger was being compelled to do something against his will. After his battles with the likes of the Controller, Tony had made sure he wouldn't be made a pawn again. With the bafflers in full-force, however, they projected a low-grade mental assault. For a normal human, the effect would be minimal. To a telepath, however, they were extremely painful.

Captain America howled in pain. He'd sensed Iron Man's plans right at the last second, but his telepath was so low-grade that he hadn't time to adequately respond. He fell to one knee, his mind ablaze. "You...won't...win...that easily...Avenger." Captain America raised a single 

hand, his body shaking from exertion. Despite himself, Iron Man was impressed by the man's courage.

Iron Man saw nothing, but he certainly felt it. Something twisted his gauntlet suddenly and painfully. Pain flared through Iron Man's wrist and tendrils of leaking energy exploded outward. Iron Man saw his energy levels fluctuating wildly. Without the spare energy to keep up the baffler-attack, the unit went off-line automatically. It flooded the freed energy _He did that. He didn't touch me but he did that..._

Captain America struck quickly, throwing his shield with all his might. It bounced off Iron Man's left knee joint, denting the armor. Inside the suit, Tony Stark grimaced in pain and surprise. Not even Steve had ever thrown the shield _that_ hard.

Captain America caught the shield on the rebound and slammed it hard into the side of Iron Man's helmet. The armored avenger staggered but landed a glancing blow on the younger man's side. Tony could hear ribs crack but the faux-Cap didn't go down. He did, however, back away. Glancing around at the stunned crowd of bystanders that were now gaping at the sight of two Avengers in open battle, he whispered. "Let's call it a draw, Iron Man. Too many people could get hurt this way."

Iron Man rerouted a power coupling, sealing off his energy leak and stood up. He was still at dangerously low levels and his main power system was at risk of exploding if it was hit squarely. "Next time, I won't understimate you. And there **will** be a next time. Until I hear it from the real Cap's lips, I'm not going to believe he's sanctioned you."

Captain America nodded, trying hard not to let his pain show. His ribs were hurting terribly and each breath felt like it would be his last. He turned and moved into the crowd, leaving behind a stunned and thoroughly displeased Iron Man. _That's it. I'm tired of having my tail kicked. It's time to get that new armor out into the field...and you, Mr. Captain America, are going to be first on my list of guys to test it out on._


	8. Mandarin Lies Part 1

Iron Man

Chapter 8: Mandarin Lies Part 1

The skyline above Hong Kong's capital has changed quite a bit over the past few decades. Skyscrapers now dominate the landscape as western companies move to the island in droves, eager to cash in on the growing Asian marketplace. More recently, Hong Kong has seen another fascinating change to its skyline -- the steadily increasing number of superhumans who are seen flying overhead.

The armored avenger known as Iron Man circled overhead, casting a worried glance down at Stark-Fujikawa's Hong Kong branch headquarters. Once, long ago, it had been a Stark-only facility, but those days were long gone. Tony Stark, the man within the mask, could only marvel at how much his life had changed in just a short amount of time. His "death" had turned things upside down for him, but he wouldn't have changed a thing. With Stark Solutions, he was making a difference -- even if recent events had forced him away from the business he'd founded.

Iron Man landed in an alley near Fujikawa, the armor already responding to his command to disengage. It pulled away from his body and collapsed into a small sphere that hovered in the air. Tony Stark, dressed in a fine suit and tie, stepped out of the alley, confident that the armor could hide itself. Outfitted with a cloaking device, it could avoid detection from all but the most sophisticed scanners.

Tony tried to put the events of the past few days in some kind of perspective, but it was hard. With Pepper going missing, the west coast branch of the Avengers reforming, and an ersatz Captain America on the loose , his life had been hectic to say the least.

"Tony! It's good to see you again!" Suzi Endo stood in front of the Fujikawa building, look smart and attractive in her matching skirt and blazer. She moved forward and embraced her former employer, having grown closer to him in recent years.

Tony grinned, enjoying the scent of her hair. There was nothing quite like the touch of a beautiful woman to cheer him up... "You're looking gorgeous as always, Suzi. I've followed your exploits on the internet -- Cybermancer's becoming a household name in this area."

Suzi winked at him, her laughter sounding more carefree than Tony had ever heard it before. "Flatterer! I was wondering when the famous Tony Stark would try to work his magical flirtations on me!"

Tony let her take his arm, following her inside the building and towards her lab. "I'm serious. You _do_ look good. Life is treating you well."

Suzi shrugged. "In some ways, I suppose. I've gotten over my fear of the armor and I've made some new friends. Work has been troublesome though -- I haven't really recovered from the way PLATO showed me up at the demonstration"  
"Hmm. If you want, I'll look into that. He shouldn't be displaying that kind of personality glitch."

Suzi opened the door to her lab and Tony's words drifted off into silence. Though he knew why Suzi had contacted him -- the appearance of a pseudo-Iron Man in Hong Kong -- she hadn't mentioned the group that was waiting for him. His eyes flicked from the hulking form of Cain Marko to the beautiful, and wistful, face of Marianne Rogers. His gaze fell last, and most harshly, on the man known as Slade Truman. "Moonraker... I thought you were... gone."

Slade Truman fought to keep the disgust from his voice, but failed. "Long time no see, Stark."

Tony winced. He'd honestly thought that Slade was gone forever, some sort of figment of a bad nightmare. As Moonraker, he'd joined Force Works during the period known as the "Crossing." For Iron Man, that time had been one of sheer terror. Now that he was confronted face-to-face with him, it was a rather painful reminder of all that had happened.

"Actually, Slade, you may not believe this, but I'm glad to see you. You're a good man."

Suzi interrupted before Slade's retort could come across. She knew that Moonraker distrusted Iron Man, but she also believed Tony when he said that he could explain everything. Someday, she knew, he would do just that. "I think the happy reunion can wait. The reason I called you is because we've spotted someone wearing one of Iron Man's old armors in Hong Kong."

Tony nodded, glad for the change of subject. He chose his words carefully, aware that Cain Marko wasn't privy to his secret identity. In fact, he was curious why the Juggernaut was here at all, but that was something to ask Suzi at a later time. "I keep close tabs on all the Iron Man armor -- they're all accounted for. Iron Man is scouting out the area now." As he spoke, he could feel Moonraker's steady gaze on the back of his head. The sensation was unnerving. _I'm going to spend the rest of my life living down what Kang did to me... and God forgive me, maybe I deserve it..._

The Mandarin's Castle

"Agency-12 did the hard work for us, bringing my Avatars together once more. Now that they are broken to my will, my plans are ready to move forward."

The Mandarin stood in the center of a large chamber, incense filling the air. He wore his emerald and yellow robes, the ones he'd worn when he'd come so close to victory before. That time he'd been bested by the combined forces of Iron Man, Force Works and War Machine. This time, there would be no stopping him -- for his own assembled army was more than enough to destroy any who dared oppose it.

Standing behind him were his Avatars, created by his magic when he'd held the Heart of Darkness. The Heart was gone, now, but he'd mastered new magicks, stronger ones -- ones that would deal a death-blow to the decadent ways of technology. He raised his hands high into the air, his voice whispering words that had not been spoken for centuries. It was an old tongue, one that was blasphemous in tone. It called on forces long-forgotten and made the 

very air tremble with each syllable. _"Clia bonot unto. Yoris maggi allamundi!"_ The final, harsh words tumbled from his lips as his eyes rolled back in his head. His body shook as a dark, evil cloud seemed to swell around him. If he were a man of science, he would have called it a Tachyon Cloud -- capable of reverting people and things to a state of prior existence. But the Mandarin scorned science and so in his way, he called it sorcery. Whatever its name, its purpose was clear -- the so-called technological "progress" of Hong Kong would be halted. Forever.

The Mandarin's eyes suddenly opened, his nostrils flaring. He could feel _him_ at the edge of his mind's reach. At this stage, with the magic augmenting his mental faculties, he could sense the presence of his most hated enemy... Iron Man.

"Oh, my old enemy. That you should come to me in my moment of triumph... the fates have spoken. Your death is at hand!"

Tony Stark sometimes wondered which was the real him -- Iron Man or Tony Stark. Both were part of his life, of course, and the very notion that one could be more real than the other was ludicrous in theory. But the question still nagged at him. Because at times like these, he felt more alive in the suit of armor than he ever did in a suit and tie.

Iron Man stood on the rooftop of Stark-Fujikawa, glinting in the setting sun. He didn't glance over as Cybermancer and her friends arrived. He was staring instead at the skyline, which was all purples and orange.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Cybermancer moved up next to him, a soft smile on her lips.

"Yes. Sometimes I forget to stop and enjoy things like that."

"A shame you have to be behind an iron mask to do so."

Tony glanced over at Cybermancer, but she'd already turned away. _Sometimes women can be too damned insightful_, he mused.

Iron Man moved forward, taking charge of the group. "Okay, here's the plan. If they're somehow wearing a genuine set of my armor -- or even a suit based on my designs -- I can track them. I put certain 'signatures' into my armor so I can identify it easily."

Moonraker, dressed in costume now, folded his arms. "How convenient."

Marianne placed a hand on Slade's arm, her large blue eyes silently asking him to stop. She could sense the mental turmoil within both Slade and Tony and it caused her intense agony. Sometimes being a telepath was sheer hell.

Iron Man ignored Slade's tone and continued. "Once we've found the man in question, we'll find out what's going on. Hopefully, it won't come down to a confrontation but if it does, we should be able to handle him. From your description, the armor appears to be one of my older suits. It can't stand up to the newer models in terms of firepower."

Marianne's cry made everyone jump. Both Juggernaut and Slade moved to catch her as she stumbled.

"Mari?! What's wrong?" Slade studied the blonde telepath's face, which was contorting in fear.

"So much evil! I can sense them -- they're coming!"

Juggernaut looked about, his eyes narrowed. "I don't see nothin'!"

A strange smoke seemed to rise up from the rooftop, enveloping their legs. Iron Man scanned it quickly, realizing with mounting concern that this series of events seemed almost supernatural in nature. That thought made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. "Form a tight circle! We need to go on the defensive!"

The ten figures who appeared out of the smoke were painfully familiar to both Iron Man and Cybermancer -- Deluge, Turmoil, Sickle, Butterfly, Lich, Quake, Foundry, Warcry, Old Woman and Ancestor. The Avatars, created by the Mandarin as physical manifestations of Chinese folklore.

Moonraker struck first. "I don't recognize these uglies but I know a threat when I see one! Hit 'em hard!" Electrical energy flew from his fingertips, striking Lich.

As the two groups converged, the sky above them seemed to shimmer and change...

"You're positive he doesn't know about us?"

Deathmancer grunted as she placed the talisman on Tony's chest. "The Mandarin has no idea that you and Rhodey followed me here from our own universe. He'll be completely taken by surprise..."

Tony nodded, examing the talisman. "Mystical protection against his spells, eh? I never thought I'd see the day when you'd abandon science..."

Deathmancer smiled. "When in Rome... Trust me, this will allow our armors to avoid the effects of the Mandarin's spells."

Rhodey stepped out of the back bedroom, dressed from the waist down in his Iron Man armor. From the waist up, he was nude, his smooth black skin shining with sweat. "Boss, our guest is awake again."

Deathmancer frowned, her smile disappearing into thin air. "Guest?"

Tony glared at Rhodey before answering. "I picked up Pepper while I was on vacation. I figured I needed something to play with while waiting for you to spring your trap."

Deathmancer backhanded him quickly, splitting his lip. "Lying dog! You are here at my leisure, remember? If you screw this up for me, I'll kill you...!"

Tony Stark looked up, a fierce anger burning in his eyes. "Sorry, baby. Won't happen again. As a matter of fact, I'll have Rhodey dispose of the merchandise right away. Fair enough?"

Deathmancer stalked away. "Kill her. There can't be any loose ends."

Stark wiped his bleeding lip and nodded. "No loose ends? I guarantee that."

Madness reigned.

Though the battle had gone well at first, the Mandarin's magical spell quickly turned the tide. While their surroundings twisted and turned, becoming medieval and simple, Iron Man and Cybermancer both felt the affects, as well.

Iron Man had just avoided one of Deluge's weather attacks when he noticed the shimmering of his surroundings. _No... Not again. Can't he at least try a different plan this time?!_

The wave washed over his armor, causing systems to suddenly go dead. The armor's weight suddenly crushed him to the rooftop. Pain flared through him as Warcry drove a foot into the side of his helmet. He could hear screams of confusion from the people of Hong Kong but mostly he felt the cold dread within his heart. His technology had failed him...

How long he lay there, he didn't know. Trapped by his own armor while his friends fought without him...

The Juggernaut's words reached him, though they were muffled by the helmet that surrounded Tony's head. "You okay down there, Avenger? You and Suzi both fell over as soon as that wave passed by."

Tony fought to gain the strength to turn his head but failed. "I'm fine, I just can't move."

The Juggernaut lifted the Avenger easily. Tony quickly took in as much of the situation as he could. The Avatars were defeated, apparently taken out mainly by the strength of the Juggernaut. "Cain Marko... You're amazing."

Moonraker was watching as Marianne tried to help Suzi back to her feet. He glance around at the countryside, his mouth gaping. "What the hell just happened? Were we sent through time?"

Iron Man's words were bitter with anger. "No. The Mandarin. I should have known from the beginning -- Marianne's dreams all make sense now. He's trying to throw China back into a 

more primitive state, one that he can rule through magic. We have to contact the Avengers somehow, before this effect spreads beyond Hong Kong!"

Slade Truman stood stock-still for only a moment before issuing a pronouncement that chilled everyone's blood -- especially his lover, Marianne. With a hollow, montone voice he said "Not this time, shellhead. This time you're going to pay for everything you did. In the name of the Mandarin, DIE!!" Before anyone could speak, Moonraker's hand came up and a bright flash of deadly energy shot forth. The beam connected with Iron Man and, for just one moment, the two men seemed to be tied together by some magical cord.

And then they were gone.


	9. Mandarin Lies Part 2

Iron Man

Chapter 9: Mandarin Lies Part 2

**The Mandarin's castle **

"JULIA!" Slade Truman's scream is followed by a powerful charge escaping his hand and hitting the Mandarin square in the chest. Inside his useless armor, Tony Stark rejoices as consciousness is slipping from his grasp: his desperate gamble paid off ... but he knows that Moonraker alone doesn't stand a chance against the Mandarin.

**( a quick reference to CYBERMANCER # 7, Alex) **

"You dare attack me, lackey?" the Mandarin is barely fazed by the blast and he's already summoning his own energies to retaliate.

"Monster! You manipulated me into betraying my friends ..." Slade's voice is filled with hatred, but his mind is racing to find a suitable way to stave off the Mandarin until reinforcements can be called in ... and an idea suddenly hits him.

Leaping to the side he avoids the Mandarin's blast, that instead pulverizes the column sustaining the high ceiling ... that collapses down on them, obscuring the villain's sight. But Moonraker had counted on that, focusing his own blasts to open a hole in the floor under Iron Man's frozen armor, making the Golden Avenger fall into the sub-basement and following him with a leap.

"Are you alive in there, Stark?" he asks as darkness envelops them. "Answer me! Maybe curse me, but don't tell me it's too late. I couldn't live with the knowledge I've caused your death, regardless of how much I despise you ..."

"Since you ask with such concern in your voice ... I'm barely alive ..." Tony Stark whispers, "but you shouldn't remember I'm Iron Man ..."

"Why shouldn't I? I have some black holes in my memory as of now, as if I've been ... imprisoned someplace for a time while the Mandarin established his control. But he was careful to leave that knowledge in me, for it fueled my distrust for you and made me vulnerable to his manipulations!" Slade answers.

"Whatever ... I don't have the strength for that ... open the armor! I can't escape in this and the Mandarin will be on us in minutes," Iron Man says.

"It's not so easy to open this can of yours, I can barely see you and ... blast! That creep is blowing up the place up there!" Moonraker and Iron Man freeze as the Mandarin's powers explode freeing him of the debris while making the place rattle.

"He's on us ... but hey! Who's that?" Moonraker is shocked of seeing, suddenly, a familiar, though outdated, red and golden armor charging on the Mandarin.

"The fake Iron Man! He's attacking the Mandarin ..." Stark says, "Hurry up, free me and ..."

"You know he can't do it! We have a tendency to build our armors too well!" A voice, familiar and yet so evil it can be barely recognized, speaks. "Step aside, Truman! I can free him while Rhodey upstairs take care of that nuisance!"

"STARK!?" Moonraker exclaims, seeing Tony Stark appear in the darkness, with an evil smile on his face.

"Why the surprised look? You should be well aware of how easy crossing time and dimensions is of late. You did it yourself!" the evil Stark kneels beside Iron Man, expertly disengaging the suit's components, freeing our Stark. "Quite some piece of art, Tony, my friend! I'm ashamed I couldn't develop the armor to this level, it'd give Rhodey an advantage with our foe!"

"What do you want, Stark?" Tony asks, catching his breath and gauging his current situation, and finding it very very unpredictable. "I don't trust you ... why are you helping me? And, most of all, what did you do to Pepper?"

"Oh, so you're aware I've been enjoying her ... presence, of late?" the evil Stark grins.

"You pervert! I'm ashamed we are the same person ... I ... uhnn!" Tony suddenly falls to the ground.

"Easy, Stark. You're in a very bad shape ... let me help you!" Moonraker offers, still eyeing suspiciously the second Stark.

"How kind of you, Moonraker, since you're the one who put him in that bad shape ... As for you, Tony, I have freed you for an obvious reason. We must ally to destroy the Mandarin."

"Why should I? You will kill me in any case afterwards ..."

"But this could save Pepper ... I have her in a secure place and I risk the wrath of Suzi for that ... 'my' Suzi of course, that is having her little revenge against your Suzi right now".

"I can't believe I'm hearing this ... you're worse than ..." Tony's words are interrupted by Iron Man's arrival.

"I've managed to lock him inside the inner chamber, like we planned, boss! But he'll get free soon and my armor is damaged. This Mandarin is a tough opponent, worse than the one I killed on our world!" the evil Jim Rhodes reports.

"So Stark, do I have your promise you will work for us?" evil Tony asks.

-He needs me alive for some reason. Otherwise he would have already killed me. I can't thrust him ... or Slade. I have to go along with what I have until I get a chance ... they must have some device that makes their Iron Man armor work inside the Mandarin's spell. If I can get it ...,- Tony thinks, then he says aloud: "I don't like you and I'm not even sure you will really spare Pepper, once she's useless to you, but I guess I have no choice, for now!"

"Very well, the offer extends to you Moonraker, as well. I guess you can put aside your hatred until our common foe has been dealt with. Jim, get the pieces of that armor ... we'll 

need them! And let's move ... Suzi has given me the plans of this underground complex. We can make it difficult for the Mandarin to track us down until we're ready to strike." Evil Tony orders.

"What about my armor, boss? It won't pass another round with the Mandarin ..." Rhodey asks.

"Is the talisman intact? That's the only thing you'll need for our next round," the other Stark says, while moving into the dark tunnels below the castle, "Mr. Truman, you will have to carry Mr. Stark until he can walk on his own!"

-The talisman! I see my double wears one, as well. I guess I know why he needs the parts of my armor ... and I think I know what I can do with them if I get my hands on one of those talismans!- Stark thinks, while he walks supported by an uneasy and silent Moonraker.

"ENOUGH!" the Mandarin's powers finally free him of the hastily made trap, but his anger has not been properly satisfied, yet.

"I knew I had to guard myself against Deathmancer's lust for power. This alternate Iron Man must be a part of her plot ... and it's clearly shielded from my spell by a talisman similar to the one I gave her to make her armor work! I should have learned by now that women in modern times are not willing to keep the place that was meant for them in the ancient order!" the Mandarin snarls as he uses his vast power to track down the fugitives.

"The talisman is partly shielding my perceptions, but I can easily sense where Moonraker is located. He thinks he has broken my mind control, but he's terribly wrong about it. He will be ready to obey the main sequence of commands when the need arises. Now about those useless Avatars ...", the Mandarin's mind wanders inside the castle to the chamber where the defeated Avatars are recuperating after he retrieved them from Hong Kong, "they're still unavailable. They've really disappointed me ... for all the efforts I put into gathering them again through my careful manipulations of Agency 12. In the time they spent away from my control their strength has been reduced and their effectiveness is waning. Once my plan is fully operational I will have to dispose of them and breed a new generation of servants ..."

With no further word the Mandarin grins as his lithe body floats toward the underground complex while he prepares to deliver the final blow to Tony Stark and anyone who has sided with him.

"Are you sure Suzi has not answered yet?" Evil Tony asks, while the quartet has almost reached a secret crypt under the castle.

"I told you boss, I've been trying to reach her armor many times, but to no avail. We're either too far away from Hong Kong or being underground is scrambling my systems!" Rhodey answers.

"Or maybe you let the Mandarin damage your comm-system, you idiot!" Stark replies.

"Why are you so angry, brother?" our Tony asks, standing beside Moonraker, but no longer needing his help to walk. "Am I wrong guessing that your adorable Suzi failed to give you the proper code to open this crypt?"

"Don't guess, Tony! And check your tone, your usefulness is rapidly waning! Yes, I need a part of the code, but I am too smart not to have a backup plan. You know how 'our' devious minds work, don't you?"

"And why do I think that involves the remnants of my armor, your talisman ... and the chance to wear an upgraded version of your own suit?" Stark asks.

"What is he saying, boss? Do you really mean to wear his armor? What about me?" Rhodey asks, suspiciously.

"Stop whining, Rhodey! Of course I need to wear the armor that will easily work with my talisman, if I want to open a breach to the crypt. Your armor doesn't have enough firepower ..." Evil Tony steps closer to his bodyguard.

"But I can do it! I can wear the new armor. You're not used to it! You need me!" Rhodey says.

"Of course I need you! What are you thinking of? You're falling for his trick, he wants to undermine your faith in me ...".

"I don't! You want the power yourself, Tony!" our Tony says, trying to push his luck, "You saw that I operate the armor, here! And you're tired of being forced to depend on Rhodey ... or Suzi on your quest for power! You want the chance to go one on one with the Mandarin and win by yourself!"

"Do not listen to him, Jim! You know how tricky he can be! Give me his armor. I need it only to find the missing part of the code to enter the crypt and accomplish the destruction of the Mandarin's power supply ... and the ultimate victory in this war!" Evil Tony says.

"Oh, yeah! He's tricky, boss ... like YOU are! You don't need me anymore ... you're ready to throw me aside and have all the power for yourself!" Rhodey protests.

"None of you will have the power!" the Mandarin's voice says as his shining form floats toward the quartet, filled with power. "Neither now nor ever!"

"Give me the armor, Rhodey! We need it now!" Evil Stark says.

"I ... I ..." Jim Rhodes is confused, while our Tony and Moonraker are already finding a cover from the Mandarin's incoming attack.

"I've had enough of you, Rhodey! I'll have the armor now!" Evil Stark presses a button on his belt, which sends a power surge inside Rhodey's armor, electrocuting him on the spot. The poor man can't even scream as life is extinguished in him and his boss gets his hands on the armor.

"You amuse me, Stark! I like you more than this world's counterpart ... but I can't let you stand against me, so prepare to die!" the Mandarin charges up his hand, ready to strike.

"Stark! I need the code to activate the armor! Give it to me! I'm the only one who can stand against the Mandarin at this point!" Evil Tony says.

"You don't mean to give it to that monster!" Moonraker says, but our Stark surprises him.

"It's 'Pepper Potts', Tony! But beware, you don't know that armor as well as I do ..."

"I'll learn, like we do all the time, Tony! We can learn everything! Be glad that when you will die after the Mandarin you can at least rejoice in knowing that it was your armor who killed him!" Evil Tony says as the armor assembles around his body in time to go online and let him erect a shield against the Mandarin's first assault.

"I can't believe you gave to him your armor!" Slade says as the battle starts furious between the Mandarin and Evil Tony.

"Did you have a better idea, Truman? This way I have bought us enough time to work on what's left of poor Rhodey's armor and his talisman to open that crypt and steal away any power it can contain for the Mandarin. Then I'll be able to deal with my double ... there are aspects of my armor he won't figure out fast enough ..."

"You're just as devious as your counterpart! You practically pushed him into killing this copy of Jim Rhodes to work on his remains ...", Slade starts with disgust.

"This coming from the Mandarin's secret servant! Shut up, Truman! In case you haven't noticed I'm trying to save your butt, as well! And I'm terrified of what might be happening to Pepper ... or Suzi ... or Marianne at this point! So spare me your hypocrisy!" Tony says while donning the few parts of Rhodey's armor still operational, as well as the talisman.

"You think you can predict my moves, Mandarin, but you're wrong! I'm Stark, but I'm not hampered by his moral code ... and I can use his armor in ways you can't even suspect!" Evil Tony says, discharging a full-out assault on the Mandarin.

"The only things that you possess to a higher degree is your arrogance, usurper! And that won't be a trouble in a few minutes ..."

"What are you doing, Stark? I'm not sure I should help your double against the Mandarin?" Moonraker asks.

"I've almost broken through the code ... I'm trying to contact their Suzi and trick her into giving me the part I miss!" Stark answers, working feverishly on the broken wires of the outdated armor to boost the transmission signal.

"That Stark is holding his own, I hate to admit it. He's smart and he's got less scruples than you do, making him lethal!!" Slade says.

"If that was an indirect compliment, thank you! I've almost made it. I've contacted their Suzi's armor, but I'm having strange readings ... NO!!"

"What's up, Stark? What is she doing? If she has harmed Marianne ..."

"It's the other way around! ARGH!" Tony Stark screams in pain as he receives the backlash of Marianne's psionic attack frying evil Suzi's brain. Strangely, the resonance of the attack hits also the evil Tony and the Mandarin very hard, making them both lose control of their powers!

**( as seen in the end of CYBERMANCER # 7, Alex) **

The explosion that follows knocks down everyone present. When the dust settles, both Starks, the Mandarin and Slade are unconscious ... not able to witness the crypt's door creaking and opening.

**Hours later **

"Uhnnn ... what's happened?" Moonraker is the first one to regain his senses. "They're still out ... I should get smart and kill them all now, starting with the Mandarin. But what if I need their help to set things right? And ... the door is open! Stark, wake up! We can get into the crypt!"

"Uh ... what ...? I ... yeah, I remember ... Marianne's attack ... somehow the talisman amplified him and it almost fried us ..." our Tony slowly wakes up. "I guess the Mandarin and my double got it worse than I did ..."

"Whatever! Get here, the crypt is open ... and I'm sure that ... thing is what's giving the Mandarin his powers!" Slade urges him.

"We should secure them, first. I'm curious why you didn't kill all of us ..." Stark says, entering the crypt, his body half-covered with the dead Rhodey's armor.

"The idea crossed my mind, but it ... felt wrong!" Slade answers, while Stark gives him a suspicious look.

"Maybe the Mandarin's programming ..." he suggests.

"I broke his control!!" Slade shouts.

"No-one breaks my control!" the Mandarin says, suddenly appearing behind them. "You're still mine, Truman! Now, get out of here and kill that other Stark, while I dispose of my longtime enemy in the very place where my power is at its peak. A power that I won't have to share with anyone, not even that expendable Suzi! Already my recharged Avatars are dispatching the Avengers outside. Victory is mine!"

**( an incorrect summary of AVENGERS WEST COAST # 4, Alex) **

"You can't command me ...!" Moonraker's words are broken as he suddenly feels his body overtaken by the Mandarin's will, and with a voiceless scream echoing in his mind he moves towards the exit of the crypt.

"And now, Stark ..."

"And now you die, Mandarin!" Evil Tony's armor gets online with a surge of power directed at the oriental despot.

-They're at it again! And Slade is frozen in place like a statue! I must use this advantage to check on that ... thing, artifact or whatever, which is the Mandarin's source of power, and dispose of it. My evil double can be handled after that!- our Tony thinks.

"I've suffered your interference for too long, usurper! But you're below my notice at this point! This world's Stark will be left alive to witness my triumph but your life ends here and now!" the Mandarin blasts Iron Man full force, cracking his armor and propelling him on the other side of the crypt, very close to the artifact. "Now, slave, finish him!"

Moonraker's empty stare turns toward the Evil Tony as he blast him with his power, this time without a moment's remorse, for this Tony he truly hates with all of his heart. His power penetrates the armor's defenses, already taxed by the Mandarin's attack, and Evil Tony screams in pain as death washes over him.

Once again everyone feels Marianne's mental presence, now stronger for the young telepath is just outside the castle. And everyone hears with his mind's ear her voice shouting Slade's and Tony's name. What comes afterward will always been remembered as a blur by Anthony Stark, though.

When Marianne's mental scream fills the place and Evil Tony dies, the Iron Man's armor sets off the self-destruct sequence, activated by the dying genius as a last effort to kill his enemies. Our Tony knows that the explosion will reach the Mandarin's power source, with disastrous results, so he activates Rhodey's patched-up armor, grabbing Moonraker and leaving the place mere seconds before the resulting inferno levels castle Mandarin, consuming everything.

But what fills his heart with dread, as he flies off with Slade in his arms, is the following vision of a giant, spectral and omnipotent Mandarin, towering over the ruins, having absorbed the artifact's powers, blasting a group of opponents which he can only identify as his friends, the Avengers!

**( as shown in the last scene of AVENGERS WEST COAST # 4, Alex) **

"We did it! We blocked the blast!" Cybermancer exults as a shield, combining her suit's power and Firebird's own energies, shines around the Avengers West Coast.

"You saved us, but we need a plan now! The Mandarin looks invincible and ... we don't know what's happened to Iron Man!" Giant Man says.

"I think I can answer the last question if this cat's eyes are still as good as they should. I see Tony and Moonraker flying our way!" Tigra says.

"But ... Marianne said ..." the Beast replies.

"We'll worry about that later! Cybermancer, Firebird, Namor, distract the Mandarin as much as you can so we can make up a plan!" Giant Man orders.

"Tony ... Slade ... you're alive ..." Marianne murmurs.

"Tony, is it you ...?" Pym asks.

"It's me. My double died in there, if that's your worry. Marianne, darling ... I need you to be strong. I have a plan to stop the Mandarin, but I need you to link all of us to explain it!" Stark answers.

"When Suzi told us about the double we didn't know what to expect. Marianne must have felt his death, then ..." McCoy comments, "that armor ...?"

"The fake Rhodey's armor. He's dead, too! Slade's out cold. He was under the Mandarin's control. Hank, can I call the shots ...?"

"Of course, Tony! Are you sure Marianne can do it? She looks so weak ..." Giant Man says.

"I can do it ... I must ...", Marianne's eyes flare as a telepathic link is established and suddenly all the Avengers and allies know what they should do.

-Once this is over we will have to talk, Mr. Stark! Now that I know you're Iron Man there is a little ... bargain I want to make with you for my silence,- Cain Marko thinks as he positions himself to follow Iron Man's plan.

Now Stark disassembles what's left of Rhodey's armor and with the help of the Beast, Giant Man and Cybermancer he prepares a strange structure. Only Sub-mariner and Firebird keep distracting the Mandarin's attention. Tigra helps Marianne standing and ... the Juggernaut is nowhere to be seen!

"What are you doing, my enemy? What last defense are you trying to build against my power?" the Mandarin asks, while Firebird and Namor retreat.

"I don't believe in your lies, Mandarin!" Tony shouts, "I don't believe in magic! I know only science and with science I will counter you! I've tapped into your own power source before it went off with the death of my evil double ... and I've built a countermeasure!"

"You can't be serious! There's no way you can reverse the transformation that has remade me into a true God! Your friends and you will die now!" the Mandarin laughs.

"We'll see! Suzi, Bonita, power up the device! Everyone else stand ready! Here we go!" Stark orders and the Mandarin amuses himself, preparing to repel whatever attack they might be launching, just for the pleasure of humiliating his eternal foe, before sealing his victory with his death.

But the Mandarin fails to notice the Juggernaut's absence, or the fact Marianne is strongly focused, or that Giant Man is so tired that he needs Namor's support to sustain himself, or that Tigra's muscles are tensing.

He fails to notice that Stark's eyes are not those of a deluded scientist pretending to counter the supernatural forces of the worlds, but those of a clever genius who knows how to make even magic bend to his plans, when it's needed.

No, the Mandarin concentrates on the apparatus, when it shoots his spectral form with no effect, apparently spelling his enemy's failure. He laughs, falling into Stark's ruse.

"I told you, Stark! I tell no lies! I AM power! You're nothing!" the Mandarin shouts and this time he prepares an attack that won't be stopped.

"You didn't lie, indeed! I did! Everyone, NOW!" Stark shouts.

At Stark's order the Beast helps Tigra leap upward, pirouetting in the air, throwing a small object with her powerful arm and her unerring feline sight. A small object that rapidly grows as he meets the apparently ineffectual ray cast by Stark's apparatus.

"What is this treachery?" the Mandarin asks, but the attack is too fast. The small object, in fact, is none other than the Juggernaut! He has already reached his normal mass, but he's growing past that, for the apparatus is actually an amplifier bathing the unstoppable projectile with Pym particles.

Giant Man almost collapses for the strain of making the Juggernaut grow, Firebird and Cybermancer give the apparatus all their remaining strength, but what hits the Mandarin is a tower of muscles, invulnerable, resistant to magic, able to disrupt even the arcane field that is the substance of the Mandarin's current form.

"Marianne, a last effort ...!" Tony asks, seeing the triumph of his plan. Then the strangest experience of the day starts, as he feels his astral self pulled out of his body by Mari's powers. He is encased in a psionic armor resembling his own, and propelled at the speed of thought inside the Mandarin's mind at the same instant the Juggernaut's body impacts the spectral foe.

Iron Man knows that if the Mandarin's mind is not disposed of, it will reassemble a body and attack anew. He knows that the threat of the Mandarin must be dealt with once and for all. He knows that it has always been about this, after all. A clash of will, of genius, of a powerful mind against a powerful mind.

So Stark strikes with no mercy. His psionic armor shoots repulsor rays that are the manifestation of his will to overcome his foe. In the astral plane the Mandarin is defenseless. His physical essence rattled by the Juggernaut's attack, his mental essence bombarded by a relentless Iron Man. He does the only possible thing: he dissolves in front of Stark's eyes ... dissipating like the morning fog when struck by the light of the rising sun.

"It's over!" Tony Stark whispers re-entering his body, before collapsing on the ground.

**EPILOGUE **

"I have given Marianne a sedative. She should sleep until we reach Hydro-Base," Giant Man says. "Julia ...?"

"I was checking on Slade. He's still unconscious. Will we be able to counter the Mandarin's programming?" Julia Carpenter asks, while Tigra carries Slade's body into the Quinjet.

"We'll ask for the help of any telepaths we know. I'm sure we can solve this ... but I don't know what will happen afterwards," Pym answers.

"I need to find Pepper," Tony Stark says, "have you brought my reserve armor, Jim?"

"Of course! Hey, why that look ...?" Jim Rhodes gives Stark a suitcase.

"Nothing ... today I saw my ... double killing your double ... he did it without remorse! It was painful ... and I feel responsible for that Rhodey's death. I can't ... I can't believe I would do that to you, Jim!" Tony explains.

"I'm sure you wouldn't! This story has really shaken you!" Jim states, trying to comfort his longtime friend.

"I think that we will all be glad to enjoy the Avengers' hospitality for the time being, Dr. McCoy! I need to rebuild my armor ... I don't want to use the Deathmancer suit ... What will you do, Cain?" Suzi asks.

"I'll be glad to be the Avengers' guest. It sounds so ... odd!" Marko grins, while adding in his thoughts, -and I need to find the proper time to use the knowledge of Stark being Iron Man to my advantage.-

"Namor has already left. He won't come with us, Hank. Are you okay?" Bonita asks.

"I'm just tired ... I've exerted myself so much to make the Juggernaut grow ... my head is ready to explode!" Pym answers.

"Everyone on board? This Avengers little bird is taking off! Next stop: Hydro-base!" Jim shouts.

"I've warned Holly to get some more rooms ready for our guests," Julia says.

Below them, Anthony Stark watches again the ruins of the Mandarin's castle, reliving the final moment when the man's psyche shattered. With a sigh he secretly hopes this is really the last time he had to fight against him. He just wonders why this victory doesn't feel very good ... maybe because he has witnessed the worst incarnation of himself today. And that hasn't been a pretty sight, indeed.


	10. Needle In A Haystack

Iron Man

Chapter 10: Needle In A Haystack

She was lying in a box. She couldn't see anything, but it must be how a corpse would feel she thought. "If it could feel," she giggled to herself.

She had only recently awoken and had no idea how long she had been unconscious. Unfortunately she remembered everything that that happened to her since Paris and she felt the giggles breaking free of her lips once more.

She had little sense of anything, including whether she was lying down or standing up. If she had to guess, she would have said lying down, but that was little more than a guess. The box she was in was acting exactly like a sensory deprivation tank and she had heard stories that people couldn't stay sane in them for long.

She tried to hold to the thought that Tony - HER Tony - would rescue her. The problem was that brought up the memories of the other Tony and they nauseated her.

She tried something else, she thought about Iron Man. He would be her knight in shining armor and rescue her. Just like he'd rescued so many others.

Tony Stark looked out of the eye slits in his Iron Man armor and considered his options. Below him lay the ruins of the Mandarin's castle, which he found, after a quick check of his armor's GPS system, was located on mainland China. His double from another timeline had told him that he had been 'enjoying' the company of Tony's longtime friend Pepper Potts, and that he had put her somewhere for 'safe keeping'. He shuddered as he considered what she might have gone through at the hands of his double.

"That could so easily be me," he thought to himself.

Tony ruthlessly subdued the feelings of self-hate and disgust that were coursing through him. "I've already cost several people their lives today, if I don't get moving, I'll add Pepper to that list," he mentally chastised himself.

Accessing his armor's internal systems he used the Sub-space Communicator and was almost instantaneously speaking with the sentient computer system he had downloaded into his home.

"Jocasta, I need you to access all hotel records in Hong Kong that either Tony Stark or James Rhodes might have stayed in during the past week. Include all apartments in that too please."

"Working on it, but you realize we never made you reservations..."

"I know Jocasta, it's a very long story. Let me know as soon as you find something."

With another mental command, he cut the connection and went back to surveying the ruins below.

Tony brought up his sensor options and began to run through them one after another. The largest sign of life that he could detect was no bigger than a rabbit. That meant that if Pepper had been in the castle she was most likely dead. He thought back over the comments that his double had made, and came to the conclusion that it was unlikely that she had been brought there.

Tony tried to gauge the point that he had escaped from and then called his most powerful weapon online. From this distance the pulse bolts would blow a hole through to the sub-levels with ease. The difficult part was not doing too much damage.

He followed the barrage of pulse bolts downwards and without waiting for the dust to settle he emerged into the lower levels of the castle. He discovered that the damage was extensive and he wondered for a second if what he sought was going to have survived the destruction.

He activated the locator within his armor and to his relief he got a response from only 100 feet away. He began to move towards the direction the signal was coming from, manually throwing debris behind him. He closed in on his target rapidly. Lifting another piece of fallen masonry he looked down at the remains of another suit of Iron Man armor.

Steeling himself, Tony reached out and pulled the armor, and the body it still held, out from under the pillar that had fallen on it. Carefully, so as not to cause any more damage to the suit, he reached around and activated the release catch on the helmet. He pulled the helmet loose and stood looking into the charred face of his long time friend Jim Rhodes - or at least his double from the alternate timeline.

Detaching a cable from his own suit, he plugged it into a port on the back of the helmet he had just claimed. The data that began to filter in showed that the other suit was several levels below the one that he was now wearing. He quickly scrolled past that information, though he downloaded into his own system was later analysis.

Finally he accessed the information he was searching for, all the time muttering "Too slow, too slow..".

The log files that he used on his own armor were present in the suit that his double had created. He mainly used these for analysis of the armor's performance but they also provided a history of the actions of the wearer and this was what he was looking for.

Accessing the GPS system once more he began to overlay the routing information he was receiving from the other suit. Looking at the display, Tony realized that he still had his work cut out to find his friend. Looking at the display he began to attempt to eliminate certain of the routes that appeared to be simple scouting as the same route was traversed several times within a matter of minutes. That still left nearly a dozen places that he needed to check, all of which were in Hong Kong.

He quickly came to a conclusion over his next course of action, but not before the audio receptors in his helmet picked up the groaning sounds from above. The structure was 

beginning to protest the damage done to it, and he estimated that he had little time to exit before the whole place came tumbling down. He looked down at the suit of armor at his feet and was about to reach down to activate its self-destruction sequence when another loud screech and a pile of debris rained down on him. A particular large piece drove Iron Man to his knees.

The body contained inside the hi-tech suit of armor reacted painfully to this newest assault. Tony Stark had already taken a beating at the hands of the Mandarin and Moonraker and it wasn't appreciating this latest indignity. Forcing himself upright, he glanced at the other suit of armor before activating his boot jets and rocketing upwards.

"Boss? Did you find her yet?"

The voice ringing through Iron Man's receiver was worried and had an edge of panic to it. It belonged to Tony's longtime friend and Pepper's ex-husband, 'Happy' Hogan.

"Happy, I'll find her. I'm heading towards Hong Kong right now trying to triangulate on the information I got out of the other suit. Trust me Happy, I'll find her, OK?"

After a brief moments hesitation, a mumbled "OK" came back through the receiver.

"I'll call when I know something. I need to concentrate on the data right now."

Iron Man abruptly cut the communication, not wanting to hear the hurt in his friends voice anymore. "There are some things that armor won't protect from," he thought, "and guilt is one."

There was a hard edge to his thoughts but he ruthlessly submerged the anger he was feeling. There would be time for that later. He focused once more on the image that was being projected onto his retina to try to make sense of the movements of his doubles suit of armor over the previous few days, all the while rerouting as much power into his boot jets as possible.

She had discovered that the box was not completely soundproof as she could faintly hear voices. She had no idea what they were saying, as they were talking what she presumed was either Chinese or Japanese. She had pounded on the box as much as her limited space would allow, and her throat was raw from screaming, but nothing had happened.

The tears had started to flow then.

Eventually, the tears had slowed and she smiled at the colors that were playing in front of eyes. The reds and golds stood out and they slowly formed themselves into the modern-day knight, Iron Man. She smiled as the hope swelled once more inside her.

"So Tony Stark stayed at the Island Shangri-La hotel in the center of Hong Kong?"

"That is correct Tony, he and two others, Jim Rhodes and Maria Stark booked into the hotel over a week ago and then left two days ago," the voice of Jocasta told Iron Man over their sub-space link.

"Did you find anything else? Is that the only place he stayed? Did he rent any other buildings during that time?"

Jocasta was one of the most sophisticated Artificial Intelligences in existence and was more than capable of emotions. As such she could hear the underlying strain in Tony Stark's voice.

"No, but I will widen the parameters of my searching and add as many other variables as I see logical," she replied. "Are there any other names or locations I should include?"

"The three names you already have would be good starts, and add in anyone with the name of Stark. Also you'd better add Pepper Potts, and anyone else that could be related back to me. As for locations, you can stay with Hong Kong. As you can see from the data I uploaded to you, the activity was all centered on the island."

"I will contact you again when I know more. Good luck."

Once again Tony Stark cut the communication link. He adjusted his trajectory based on the information he had just received to take him to the hotel that 'he' had stayed at."

Pepper Potts tried to look down towards her feet but the cramped container she was in prevented that. Her feet had begun to get cold, and that cold was moving upwards. She wasn't too worried about it though. She knew that her knight was on his way, even now.

She could see him, dressed in golden armor, riding his red-covered steed to the rescue. It wouldn't be long now, she reasoned. She could feel the water beginning to fill the box and that meant the moment of rescue could not be far behind.

Pepper Potts lay her head back and smiled.

Iron Man flew directly into the lobby of the Island Shangri-La hotel causing several guests to have to take immediate action to avoid being hit. He landed in front of the main desk and said, "I need to see the room that Tony Stark stayed in last week."

The clerk behind the desk just looked at the figure in front of him and said nothing.

Iron Man was about to repeat his request once more when a woman emerged from an office behind the desk and said, "We do not..."

She was cut off abruptly as Iron Man said, "You already know who I am, and Mr. Stark has asked me to check the room he stayed at for clues to the kidnapping of one of his associates."

"The hotel knows nothing about a kidnapping and the room has obviously been cleaned. We would..."

Iron Man tuned out the sounds of her voice and opened a sub-space communication channel with Jocasta.

"Which room did they stay in?"

"Room 2601 on the 26th floor."

He closed the circuit and turned and walked towards the elevator. He considered opening the doors and flying up the shaft but restrained himself and pressed the button. Mere moments later the door to an elevator opened and he stepped inside. "Floor 26 please," he informed the startled bellhop.

The bellhop pressed the button before he realized that the duty manager was calling his name. He went to press the open door button when Iron Man grabbed his hand and shook his head.

Moments passed and the elevator stopped on the correct floor. Iron Man stepped out of the elevator and taking note of the room number signs walked towards his destination. He managed to politely knock on the door of room 2601, but when he received no reply he pushed against it and it popped open.

Iron Man strode to the center of the main room of the suite he had entered. He didn't have much time, as he knew he could count on the manager to appear very soon. He boosted the power to his scanning system and activated the custom program he had built into this latest version of his suit. Iron Man turned a full 360 degrees before moving through the other rooms of the suite. Having completed his sweep of the rooms he returned to where he had begun and waited for the scanning software to complete its analysis.

As he was waiting he engaged his mind by attempting to determine what his double would have done with Pepper. The process made him feel dirty, as he needed to try to think as his double would. He tried to think of the exact opposites of his own nature and one of the possibilities that brought up chilled him. Where would he have hidden her?

His thoughts were interrupted firstly by the entrance into the room of what he supposed was the hotel manager and then by his HUD revealing the results of its search. Ignoring the threats coming from the manager's mouth, Iron Man walked back into one of the suites bedrooms and bent to examine the bed. There were definite marks on all four legs, which most likely had come from ropes. Standing up he moved back to the main room and walked over to the large desk. Kneeling down, he reached under the desk and retrieved a piece of paper. It was an invoice for a large box that had been delivered to the room three days previously.

Iron Man turned and addressed the manager who was now almost apoplectic with anger at the treatment he had been receiving. "Please excuse my rudeness. A friend of Mr. Starks is in very grave danger and it has left my manners with something to be desired. What can you tell me about a box that was delivered here last week?"

Iron Man waited as the manager debated with himself about answering the question.

"Please... the information is vital," continued Iron Man.

"This is most irregular," said the manager in a clipped English accent, "A large box, shaped something like a coffin was delivered here to Mr. Stark."

"Where is it now?"

The manager paused, apparently uncertain of how to answer that question. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "It was not part of Mr. Stark's luggage when he departed and we never saw it leave. But as you see it is no longer here."

Iron Man paused before asking his next question as his agile mind turned over the possibilities that the managers answer had brought up.

"Did Mr. Stark's companions leave with him?"

"Mr. Rhodes did, but we did not have the pleasure of saying goodbye to Ms. Stark."

"Thank you," said Iron Man, then he turned and moved towards the large glass doors onto the suites balcony. Opening the door, he stepped out and then ignited his boot jets once more.

Red and gold. Gold and red. Such pretty colors. No wonder her knight had chosen them for his own. Pepper could now feel the water reaching up to her waist and covering her hands. It didn't matter. Iron Man was on his way. She could hear the sound of him approaching. In her minds eye she saw him draw his sword and move in to combat the villains who had placed her here. They would suffer his mighty wrath for their actions. Tony Stark would die. Her knight would see to it for the indignities he had committed to his beloved.

The water continued to rise and Pepper Potts continued to smile at a scene only she could see.

Tony Stark looked at the routes that his counter-part Iron Man had taken and eliminated all the routes that did not originate from the hotel. That left only two. The first was from the day that they had vacated the hotel, and the other on the day previous. Both of which were after the arrival of the box. Tony snarled audibly and looked to see where the routes terminated.

The first route went out to the outlying island of Kau Sai Chau Tsuen. Tony accessed a comm. link and then executed a quick search for information on the island. The only thing he found were two temples on the island and a small fishing village.

He turned his attention to the other route and found that it also went to an outlying island. This time to Tai Tau Chau. He skipped quickly back to his data source and discovered that this one only had a fish farm on it.

Cursing once more in frustration, he calculated the closer of the two and roared off in that direction.

She could hear the roar of the crowd as her knight swept aside all the villains in his path. His lance was unstoppable and as he cleared the last of his enemies she returned the smile of triumph she knew would be under his helm.

Her knight was coming and her smile broadened, but the water had now reached her chin.

Iron Man flew towards the second island. What remained of his patience had been exhausted on the first island. Unless he had missed something, it really had only the fish farm on it. He had been grateful for the universal translator that he had installed into this suit. The people there had not been able to help and a quick trip around the small island had revealed nothing. He had been surprised when they professed no knowledge of the other Iron Man.

In the distance he could see his target growing larger by the second. This must be it, he thought. Using the capabilities of his helmet his amplified the view of the island. There were the two temples, on opposite sides of the island and between them was the village. "Where do I start?" he thought.

"Full E-M scan," he mouthed to his armor, and instantly the view he was looking at was overlaid with the results. Neither temple showed signs of any technology. However, he was surprised by the sophisticated energy readings he was getting from a house in the village. Reviewing the findings more closely he discovered that any standard scan would have failed to detect anything.

Iron Man altered his course and angled towards the anomalous readings he was receiving. Moments later he landed outside the small house that was more than it appeared. Cautiously he moved towards the door, aware that several people around were watching him carefully.

As he was about to push the door open his radar detected an incoming object. Reacting to the armors evaluation of the threat he turned and threw up his arm while activating the photon-shield that now resided there. The missile looked to be a simple baton but upon impacting on the shield it exploded. The shield dissipated much of the force and Iron Man looked around for his assailant.

He found that the villagers had left and standing around him were men dressed in what appeared to be ninja costumes although his sensors informed him that their weapons were a little more modern.

"I want the box," he flatly stated.

The 'ninjas' appeared not to care as they began to attack.

Tony growled within the armor and released a wide-angle repulsor blast that took out half his opponents. For many, the simple numbers of assailants would have been troubling. Iron Man 

simply turned the assault systems in his new armor to fully automatic and within moments he was standing by himself once more. He was surprised however when the bodies of his assailants began to turn to a black mist leaving only their clothes behind.

Turning and dismissing the scene as unimportant, he pushed the door of the house open. Inside was a complicated array of equipment, but no box. Tony smashed his hand through the nearest wall and enabled his scanning array once more. That revealed nothing and he stood there in frustration trying to decide what his next course of action was to be.

Suddenly he brought his hand up to his head and smacked himself. He flew outside and followed the tracking information he had been using all along to the place on the island that his double had previously visited.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he berated himself as he flew.

He landed on the waterfront area of the village and stood there looking about. Nothing. "Think Tony. Think. Where is she."

Looking once more at the map he had been following, realization slammed into him and he launched himself into the water.

"Gentlemen, and lady, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

The man at the end of the table stood and welcomed his guests. He was in his forties and was shorter than average. His hair was prematurely thinning but other than that he was in good physical shape. He had been surprised when the CEO's of several local businesses had requested this meeting, but his curiosity had also been aroused.

"Jim, it's good to see you. How is the world of design treating you? It appears that Enoch Platas is gaining a reputation." As he spoke he reached out and shook the hand of the younger Latino man that had first entered the room.

The man smiled and shook the proffered hand. "Things have been going well, especially of late. Let me introduce you to Mel Travantis of Seattle Lab, Inc., Hai Hoang of Freeman Welwood and Diana Moffat of the St.Charles Consulting Group. This is John Waak, the CEO of Trade Tech."

The introductions were made and the host of the meeting invited his guests to sit. "What can I do for you all?"

"You can join with us," said the small, slim form of Diana Moffat.

Waak had heard of her and how she had taken the small consulting firm of St.Charles to its current position at the top of its field in the Seattle area. "Join you in what?" was his puzzled question.

"We are 'recruiting' top business people on the West Coast to form a collective. We feel, based on Mr. Suarez recommendation, that you would be a very good 'acquisition'". She gestured towards the Latino man who had made the introduction.

Jim Suarez got up as she gestured to him and started to pace around the room. "Before you say anything John, hear me out. I know that this must be a surprise to you. It was to me, when Diana approached me. But it makes sense. I've now become part of something much greater than I could ever had guessed was possible."

As he talked he continued to walk and ended up behind their host.

John Waak was a businessman. He had dealt with all manner of people over the years, but the way that the Moffat woman had said 'recruiting' and 'acquisition' had made ice run up and down his spine. The words coming out of Jim Suarez's mouth were also causing concern. "I'm not sure that I need to be part of a 'collective'..." he began, but was interrupted as a hand closed over his mouth.

After a brief moment of panic he pushed himself backwards in an attempt to free himself, but found that the strength of the person holding him was way beyond anything he could match. Another arm was now around his neck and was pressing tightly enough to cut off his air supply.

He looked up to see the woman stand up and begin to approach him. "We never said anything about you having a choice."

She watched with amusement as his eyes bulged out even further as she became to change.

Iron Man dragged Pepper from the shattered box that he had dragged from the water. He turned her over onto her stomach and then reached around and began compressing her chest in an attempt to remove the water she had inhaled.

Water began pouring out of her mouth but the she failed to issue the cough that he had hoped for.

When the water stopped coming out, he turned her back onto her stomach. She was breathing on her own, but when he lifted an eyelid there was no recognition there. Quickly, but gently, gathering her into his arms, he activated his boot jets and plotted a course to the closest hospital.

In his heart of hearts, he knew that he had failed one of his oldest friends.


	11. Big Problems

Iron Man

Chapter 11: Big Problems

It was a dark and stormy night, which suited Tony Stark very well. It was a good reflection of how he felt. Turning, he looked at the figure of Pepper Potts lying in the hospital bed. She had not regained consciousness since he had found her ten long days ago. If anything she was slipping further away with each passing day. He wished he understood why that small smile remained on her face constantly.

Tony turned back to the window to see the tears leak from his eyes in the reflection that stared back at him. "What can I do?" he thought. He might have been realistic enough to realize that he couldn't save everyone, but this was different. His eyes tightened, and his lips narrowed to a thin line. This was Pepper. He should have been able to save her. His look turned to one of disgust as his mind wandered to the idea that he had done this to her.

It was a Tony Stark from another time and place. But it was **A** Tony Stark. "Could I do those types of things?"

The movements of his reflection's lips made him realize that he had spoken aloud. "Yes. I could, if I didn't have a conscience. I guess being around Steve long enough will do that to a person."  
_ That would be Steve Rodgers - also known as Captain America_

Even the humor of his comment fell flat. He felt helpless. With all his vaunted technology he could do nothing to help her. The doctors had all told him the same thing. Her mind had shut itself down in self-defense. She had suffered more than she could handle. They could only hope that she would pull herself out of this. The problem was, he heard the negatives in the last comment from every doctor that had examined her. They thought that she wasn't going to come out of this.

His mind turned again to what had led to this point. Once again, he felt disgust at the actions of his doppelganger, and at himself. After all, hadn't he stated on more than one occasion, that he wasn't Captain America, and he could make the hard choices. Choices that had included killing on more than one occasion.

"Is there really any way to justify killing someone?" he thought. "No matter what they've done, there must be a better way than that. If I'd killed the Mandarin in one of our earlier meetings would this have happened to Pepper? At least with the Mandarin, he was a villain. How do I justify what I did to the other Jim Rhodes? I set him up to be killed. I may not have actually given the command sequence, but I may as well have. What type of person does that make me?"  
_ Tony Stark manipulated the alternate Tony into killing the alternate Iron Man, who was Jim Rhodes_

"Not the monster that you are trying to make yourself out to be, that's for sure."

Tony turned sharply at the unexpected voice from behind him. Standing in the doorway was his long-time friend, Jim Rhodes. "Tony, I know we haven't been all that close recently, but I think you're being way to hard on yourself."

"I think I have a right to be Jim. After all, I control more power that most people on the planet when I'm suited up. If I'm not hard on myself to make the right choices who else will be?"

Jim Rhodes smiled, "That's exactly where I rest my argument."

Tony Stark's brow wrinkled and it looked like he was about reply harshly to his friend's statement, when suddenly his face changed to hold a rueful smile. "So you're saying that so long as I look hard at my choices and recognize where I should have done better - and want to do better - then I'm not going to 'go bad'?"

"I knew you were a smart guy and would figure it out yourself. Even if you needed a little pushing. Tony, you did what you had to do. What else could you have done against the Mandarin? Put that brain of yours to work getting Pepper to wake up. Which means getting some sleep, so you can see the problem clearly again. I'm not sure if Happy or you have spent more time in here. Go get some sleep. Now."

"Yeah, I guess I could do with some. Maybe I'll come up with an idea when I'm freshened up. What are you doing here anyway? Don't you need to ferry the Wackos somewhere?"  
West Coast Avengers - Jim Rhodes is their official pilot

"I get time off for good behavior you know. Besides I wanted to check on Pepper, and you."

"Thanks Jim, I owe you one. As usual."

As Tony Stark walked out of the room heading to his own bedroom, Jim Rhodes said quietly, "One of these days I'll collect."

Twelve hours later and several miles away in an office building in downtown Seattle, five individuals - four men and a woman - sat discussing their plans.

"Justin Hammer might be a good candidate to join us."

"That would be too much at this time. It would involve more risk that we are ready for. We will need to eat up more small businesses before we begin to take on the larger ones. Think smaller Mr.Hoang. Now is not the time for risks." The voice was brusque and spoke of someone who would have little time for fools.

"How about Tony Stark? He no longer has a large company, and it would almost certainly open up access to the superhero circles too," asked the shorter, graying man on the other side of the table.

"I had thought about Mr.Stark. He would certainly provide considerable financial support to our group."

"What about the problem of Iron Man? Where ever Stark is, his bodyguard usually isn't far away," stated the tall, powerfully built Latino at the end of the table.

"A good point Mr.Saurez, and the main reason for my misgivings over Mr.Stark. I do not think we should rule him out, but we will need to a plan to occupy his bodyguard. Secrecy is our main weapon at this time, and I have been told that we are not to compromise that for any reason. Gentlemen, I want Tony Stark, but only if we can do so safely. Until we have a plan in place, I want to induct Ali Fadel, owner of the Alexis Hotel, into our group."

With that, the woman nodded her head, dismissing the men around the table.

"Tony"

"Yes, Jocasta," answered a sweat soaked Tony Stark as he looked up from the welding torch he was using.

"You have three meetings scheduled for this afternoon. Two of which have already been postponed from earlier in the week."

Tony sighed as he nodded his head. "I guess I'd better get changed. These mod's to the armor are taking longer than I'd have hoped. I just can't seem to concentrate on them."

"Maybe a break will do you some good."

"Who am I meeting?"

"Management from three companies that you have been working for recently. All local, which is why we were able to postpone the original meetings. I've downloaded your current notes to your laptop and palm."

Tony detected the slight pause as Jocasta finished speaking. "Thanks, and was there anything else?"

"I realize that you have been busy recently, but have you had any thoughts about a new body for me?"

"As a matter of fact, yes I have. I've got something rigged up as a test and I'm hoping to have it ready in the next few days. You realize that the construction of the actual body is not the problem. It's the construction of a neural net that will hold your conscious and allow you to grow. I think I have most of the details worked out, I just want to check the details before we test. I'm sorry, I've been too distracted lately."

"There is no need to apologize, we are all concerned about Ms.Potts." the computer generated voice responded with genuine emotion, "Now you had better go and get ready for your meetings. I'll have a car waiting for you."

"... and that gentlemen is what I am proposing."

The three executives sitting around the table looked impressed at the information on the screen before them.

"What you have shown us is very impressive, however, the sum of money you are requesting to continue this work is also impressive. Are you saying that given the cost we will incur in producing this product, we will still be able to make it profitable?"

"Computer, bring up the projections please."

Tony had used the voice commands several times during previous meeting with this set of clients, and each time it amused him to see the looks of envy on their faces. The operating system built into his laptop was based on the companies own product, but he had enhanced it far beyond its original design. It was also beyond the plans that he had presented to them. "I wonder if they realize that?" he thought.

On the screen appeared a projected analysis of the profitability of the new system he had proposed.

"As you can see, I've taken an approximation of your current worldwide marketplace penetration and using your current pricing model with an uptake of thirty three percent in the first twelve months, I think you will agree that it would produce a reasonable profit."

Tony watched the eyes of two of the execs open in surprise at the numbers presented. He wasn't surprised. He had the same reaction when he had calculated the numbers on the way over to this appointment. "I guess that if people are willing to pay the prices they put on their boxes, they'll keep on using those prices," Tony thought to himself.

He waited patiently for them to digest the numbers and respond. However, the alarm klaxon broke everyone's concentration. One of the executives reached for a nearby phone and spoke into it briefly. When he put down the receiver his face was ashen. "We need to evacuate immediately. There is some sort of huge man smashing buildings and heading towards the center of the campus."

Tony looked up in surprise from where he was closing down his laptop. "Giant man?"

The other three men in the room however, were more interested in leaving than discussing the matter further. He continued to close down the laptop, while he pulled his palm-top from his jacket pocket. "Emergency news scan - parameters: local area, please."

Executing... Police report indicates the presence of a human figure, approximately thirty feet tall destroying buildings on the Microsoft campus. No identification on the being at this time.

"End report."

Tony grimaced. There weren't too many villains that he knew of who fit that description. He picked up his computer and headed for the door. He had left his other _suit_ in the trunk of the car, and it looked like he would need it.

Detective Plexico looked over the data he had received. Most of it could easily have been written in double-Dutch for all the sense it made. The summary however, had been written in plain English. However, that didn't mean that it made much more sense than all the rest of the information in the report. "How, in Pete's name, can DNA that match, but also not match?"

"What's the difference," asked his partner from across the desk.

"As near as I can make out, the good doctors think it may have someone to do with aging and something else. Unfortunately, he can't tell me what else."

Plexico's partner smiled at the sarcasm oozing through his friends words.

"Guess that didn't really help much did it? Was that report on all the dead bodies they've found that look alike?"

"The most recent ones are in here. The last five, that is. The first ones had already been buried before anyone noticed a pattern, and I don't see much reason in digging them up to find out the same thing."

"Maybe, you need to get the data analyzed by someone else. A real expert, if you know what I mean?"

"You know, Johnno, you just might be on to something there."

With a flare of boot jets, the invincible Iron Man took to the air. Quickly he gained altitude, although when he saw the source of all the alarm, he had not reached that high. About a mile distant - his radar confirmed the distance moments after he mentally gauged it - a giant figure was smashing huge fists into a close by building. As his radar confirmed the presence of other figures both inside the building and around it, Iron Man rocketed towards the trouble. Turning up the audio receptors in his helmet, Tony made out the words that the figure was uttering as he pounded on the buildings, "Crash, smash, bash, dash." Tony raised an eyebrow at the words, especially when they were repeated with a few additional ones.

As he rapidly approached he allowed his suits internal computer to run a check against its database of known villains for any matching the colossus in front of him. Seeing how dire the situation was, Iron Man unleashed a barrage of repulsor blasts towards to figure's chest.

The only response from the giant was a low grunt as he swung his head to look at the small figure of the golden avenger flying towards him. Casually he backhanded a nearby flagpole sending it careening at Iron Man like an unleashed rocket.

The suits onboard computer registered the incoming missile faster than Tony's human brain could, but even as it engaged the suit's photonic shield, the force of the blow sent Iron Man rolling backwards in the air.

Identity of Assailant established. Gargantua - formerly known as Leviathan.

After managing to stop himself from rolling, Iron Man quickly assimilated the data scrolling onto his retina, then engaged his pulse bolts.

As he had been sent backwards by the force of the missile, the bolts had plenty of time to build in intensity before they crashed into the thigh of the giant.

The impact threw the giant's leg out from under him but he reacted faster than Iron Man had expected. Reaching out with his hand he righted himself by leaning on the roof of a nearby building.

Glaring balefully at his tormentor he said, "Little tin man, I squash you like a tin can."

Tony Stark was grateful for the audio dampers he had installed in the suit's helmet so long ago. However, they didn't save him from the dreadful rhyming of his adversary. "The Avengers reports were right. This guy really doesn't have much left upstairs. Can he really be Edward Corbert?"

Iron Man left off his musing as he rocketed upwards in a rapidly accelerating arc. He knew he didn't have much time before Gargantua began pounding on the campus buildings again so he pushed his boot jets hard. As he reached the summit of his climb he unleashed another barrage of pulse bolts at the figure he was still tracking via the suits radar. He then turned out of his climb and let gravity aid his boot jets in accelerating him back to earth.

The pulse bolts struck their target in his lower back with considerably more force than they had on their previous use due to the greater distance they traveling. As the giant figure began to topple forward, Iron Man, moving faster than a speeding bullet, smashed into the back of his head with fists outstretched.

"Argh!" Gargantua cried out as Iron Man impacted. The volume of his cry of pain was sufficient to blow out the remaining windows in the nearby buildings.

As Iron Man leveled out he whipped around to see the amazing sight of the huge figure lifting himself up off the ground. "I'm going to need to update the database after this," Tony thought.

Raising his gigantic head, Gargantua locked onto the immobile form of Iron Man hovering some distance from him. "Me hate super-doupers! Fight me like man, not a tin of spam."

All Tony could do inside the suit was shake his head and utter, "You have got to be joking?"

With blinding speed, Gargantua brought his hand up and launched a huge handful of dirt and concrete towards the source of his annoyance.

Engaging his repulsors in a wide-angle mode, he reduced the approaching rubble to atoms, but quickly found himself on the defensive as load, after load, of rubble was sent hurtling towards him. The oncoming debris was causing the suits scanning systems to have trouble tracking the creature responsible for the barrage. As such, Iron Man only had a moments warning as a huge fist came flying after another pile of debris.

There was no time to completely evade the blow, so he threw himself backwards in an attempt to roll with it. The force of the strike, however, was still sufficient to scramble his sense momentarily even through the suit. As he shook his head to clear it, he became aware that the computers automatic systems were online attempting to slow the backwards momentum. Taking control he redirected his boot jets and climbed upwards, once more in control of his flight.

Activating his external speakers he said, "Give it up now, or I'll be forced to play rough."

Bellows of laughter were the reply he received. "Me going to peel tin can and eat the tin man."

"We'll see about that."

As Iron Man raised his gauntleted hands to unleash another attack on the raising giant, he uttered an oath under his breath as he realized why Gargantua was smiling at him. The villain had stretched out his arms and was about to demolish a building on either side of him. On its own that wouldn't have been a problem. The problem was, the number of people trying desperately to clear the area around the buildings.

Tony Stark's agile mind took in the variables of the problem and immediately began looking for a solution. "Wide-angle repulsors - too many people. Pulse bolts - too wide an area. Sonics - no." So it went, as Tony discarded option after option.

As the debris from Gargantua's blows began to fall, Tony cursed again, and activated the only system that could save the people from certain death.

Red energy lanced out from the mounts on the back of Iron Man's gauntlets. Twisting his arms as carefully as time allowed, he formed two shields over the frantically scrambling people. As the shields began to catch the falling debris, Tony watched as system after system in his armor began to close down.

Armor Power Reserves Down to 60 and falling.

Focusing past the rapidly falling numbers on his retina, Tony boosted power from other systems into the suits arm servos. With a mighty heave he lifted the debris he had caught and dumped it on top of the startled villain just before his photonic shields shut down.

Armor Power Reserves Down to 20 and falling.  
Boot jets being shut down.

As the armor began to plummet from the sky, Tony watched as the villain stood up displacing the debris he had been covered in. He had saved the people, but the only thing he had accomplished was to get dirt into the villain's eyes, that was being rubbed away.

Armor Power Reserves Down to 15.

Even through the padding of the armors inner lining, Tony Stark felt the full force of a non-powered landing from a six-story building.

Structural Integrity of Armor intact.  
Beginning to rebuild Power Reserves.

Tony Stark watched as the giant stood up and began to march towards him. The suits power reserves were too low to activate the boot jets and most of the weapon systems. He rapidly scanned the list of available options and was dismayed by the lack of choices. "I have to improve the power supply," he thought as he discarded option after option.

"Wait a second," he thought as a smile erupted on his face, "that's the solution. I just wish I'd had time to thoroughly test it."

Back in a hospital bed, a young woman continued to lie perfectly still. In her mind she could still see her knight in red and gold armor charging towards her. The smile on her face faltered briefly as she wondered why he was taking so long. As she thought about it, another figure appeared. This time she cowered backwards away from the figure. "No," she mouthed, "he must save me."

As if in response to her words, the knight in red and gold barreled towards the other man and leaping from his steed tackled him to the ground. The two figures battled mightily back and forth until the man stood atop the armored knight.

The woman wrung her hand together and whispered, "No... he always wins."

The apparently beaten knight suddenly surged upwards and sliced his gauntleted hand towards the man's throat. While the man saw the blow coming at the last moment, he was too late to do anything about it. Clutching his throat he fell to the floor, and the knight in red and gold stood above him.

Beckoning with his hand he called the woman to him and they stood looking down at the dying form of Tony Stark.

"Engage wrist launcher. Ammo G1, G2, G3."

Fighting to use the last of the suits power to raise his arm, Iron Man uttered the commands which brought online the latest offensive weapon he had added to the suit. A small tube lifted from the area behind his right wrist and with a muffled thump launched its first shell.

Tony had redirected power into the launcher in order to activate it, so he had shut down the suit's targeting system. Even so, his aim was true and the shell impacted on the giant's large forehead. Seconds after the first shell was launched a second followed it.

Now Tony watched to see if his hope for surviving this encounter would pay off.

Gargantua felt the impact of the first shell and was in the process of reaching up to wipe the liquid he felt running down towards his eyes, when the second shell impacted on his nose. 

This one released a cloud of gas as it shattered which seemed to cling to the area around the giant's eyes where the liquid had been released by the previous shell ran.

Gargantua batted at the gas with his hands, but it continued to hover around his eyes. With a bellow of pure rage, he began to rub at his eyes. Waiting for this moment, Iron Man launched the final shell, which flew into the giant's mouth and exploded. Reflexively, Gargantua swallowed.

Rubbing frantically at his eyes, the giant began to flounder back and forth. His initially purposeful walk towards the prone Iron Man now turned into a sort of mad dance. His movements became more, and more erratic with each step until finally he pitched forward.

Tony Stark watched the numbers of the armors power reserves slowly climb, unable to do much else but brace for the impact of the thirty feet tall Gargantua.

Happy Hogan sat on his ex-wife's bed and held her closely. She was still sobbing but not as wildly as when she had awoken.

He had been sitting at her bed-side when he noticed the small smile that had taken residence on her face change into first a frown and then a look of fear. As her hands had begun to reflexively grip and release the bed sheets he had called for the nurse who was on call.

He didn't know whether this was a good sign or not, but at least he was here for her. Suddenly, her lips had seemed to move and then the smile had returned.

Moments later she had awoken and began sobbing.

Harold Hogan smiled as he held the one thing in the world that he held dearer than his own life. Pepper Potts was back.


	12. Painful Lesson

Iron Man

Chapter 12: The Hammer Must Fall Part 1

"Painful Lesson"

"Anthony! What an unexpected surprise," the silver haired man at the head of the table said.

The fact that the doors to his private boardroom had just been thrown open in the middle of a meeting didn't seem to bother him at all.

"If you gentlemen would give us a few moments, it appears that Mr.Stark requires to see me, most urgently."

As one, the men and women around the table stood and walked past a very angry looking Tony Stark. He had already been boiling mad when he burst into the room, and the supercilious tone that Justin Hammer was using, was doing nothing to improve his temper. Tony was sore from the bruising he had taken during the fight against Gargantua, and more than a little annoyed at having had to wait almost an hour before his armor was sufficiently powered up enough to get out from underneath the behemoth.  
See last issue

As he heard the door close behind the last person, he leaned his hands on the table in front of him and softly stated, "You went too far this time."

A look of surprise blossomed momentarily on the face of Tony's oldest rival, before it became recognition and he said, "Oh, I assume you are talking about the unfortunate situation with Miss Potts?"

Tony exploded, "UNFORTUNATE SITUATION?"

He lowered his voice with and effort and continued, "Due to your endless manipulations Pepper was kidnapped and ended up in a coma. Now I cannot enter the same room as her, for fear that she will scream the house down. She was supposed to be under your protection."

"Now Anthony, I fail to see how you can blame me. She was very well aware of where she was going. I in no way forced her to go to the South of France with me."

Tony blinked at what he considered the idiocy of his rivals comment. "You hire the Spymaster to kidnap her from her home, then convince her to join you in a potentially dangerous situation. But when she ends up being hurt, it's not your fault?"

"She is a grown woman, and very capable I understand of making her own decisions. She decided she wanted to..."

"Justin, I don't want to hear any more of this nonsense. I came here to tell you one thing. I've always put up with your interference in my affairs. This time you've gone too far. I going to do what I should have done the last time. I going to shut you down."

"Anthony, it does sound like you are threatening me. It would appear that our relationship is deteriorating."

Tony Stark stood up straight and walked around the table to stand in front of Justin Hammer. As he walked, Hammer continued to talk.

"Where is your sense of justice and fair play? If you take my business down, what will happen to all those people who work for me? They would be out on the street. That would be a lot of hungry people on your conscience."

As he finished his sentence, Justin Hammer found the world spin around him as he suddenly found himself lying on the floor holding a bloodied lip. Tony Stark stood over him and stated simply, "I said nothing about taking down your business, Justin. I said I was taking YOU down."

With that he spun on his heel and headed for the door. On the floor behind him, Tony Stark would have been surprised to see the glint of challenge in Justin Hammer's eyes.

Tony slammed his hands down on the desk as he said, "What do you mean, I can't see her?"

The day since he had spoken to Justin Hammer had not lightened Tony's mood very much, and his body was now protesting the treatment it had received the day before.

The tall, powerfully built man, with bright green hair sighed deeply and replied, "We've been over this several times Mr.Stark. Miss Potts is suffering from a deep, psychological trauma. It is obvious, even from the little time I've spent with her to this point, that she now has a fear of you. As such, until I have more time to discover the actual nature of her problem, I am insisting that you stay away from her."

The whole speech was said calmly, even though he was repeating it for the third time. He looked into Tony Stark's eyes as he said it, and tried to force the message past the refusal he saw there.

"Dr..."

The man put up his hand to halt another denial.

"Tony, I realize that she is more than just an employee. She is someone you have known for a very long time. However, you called me in for a reason. Now, let me do the job the right way. If you try to push past this fear she has, it could make the situation even more unsalvageable."

Tony Stark collapsed into the chair behind his desk and regretted it as his back generated a burst of pain. The man he was talking to didn't take any satisfaction from the look of defeat on Tony's face, even though he was glad that he had finally gotten his message through.

"You're right Leonard. I'm just having a hard time admitting it."

"That is perfectly understandable, you have known her for a very long time, and your first instinct is to try to help. However, in this case, you need to understand that you cannot."

Tony brushed a hand through his hair as he sat up and leaned forward to place his hand on the desk in front of him.

"What are your plans? Is there anything that I can do to assist you, without seeing Pepper?"

"As a matter of fact, there is. I need to hear your view of what caused this fear."

"Well, Pepper was abducted by Justin Hammer. He had reason to believe that I was not the real Tony Stark, as he had photographs of a younger version of me holidaying in the South of France. He wanted Pepper to determine who was the real version."

Tony paused to pour himself a glass of Perrier water, and Sampson waited for him to continue.

"Unfortunately, she was kidnapped by the other Tony Stark and it appears that his nature was a little blacker than mine. I have no idea exactly what he did to her, but suffice to say that when Iron Man managed to locate her she had been placed in a leaky box, that had been placed in the ocean. After a brief stop at a hospital in Japan, I had her flown back here, where she remained in a coma until yesterday."

Tony had stopped looking at the doctor sitting on the other side of the desk and was gazing into the depths of his glass.

"This other Tony Stark, where is he now?"

"Dead."

"And he was actually Tony Stark?"

"Yes, just from another timeline or reality."  
"Now you are blaming yourself for what happened to Miss Potts. Wh..."

Tony raised his eyes from the glass at the words from the doctor and there was anger flashing through them.

"What I think is my own business. I asked you to come and help Pepper. When I need anything else, I'll be sure to ask."

Leonard Samson inclined his head slightly, but showed no sign of offense at the harsh words that had been directed at him.

"My apologies. If there is nothing else you can add, I would like to see Miss Potts now."

"Certainly. I think you already know where she is."

Tony stood and extended his hand across the desk. "Thank you for coming so promptly Leonard. I apologize for my own rudeness. This has me very much on edge."

Leonard Samson stood and took the hand that had been proffered. His own, Gamma-enhanced hand, enveloped Tony's, but he was careful not to use his full strength.

With a nod, he turned and left the room.

Later, down in a lab set up in the depths of Tony Stark's house, the master inventor was putting the finishing touches to his latest work. Tony had come down here not long after talking to Dr.Samson as a way to get away from everything. As it had always been, he felt relaxed and able to think more clearly when he was working on a project.

This particular project had taken the backseat recently, but Tony felt a need to complete it. It was something that would be important not only to him, but to Jocasta. He had come to rely on her conscious running his home computer network, but that was hardly a reason to keep her there. After all, she was a thinking, feeling being, and one that had saved him on more than one occasion.

The wall monitor flared to life with the image of the very being he had been thinking about.

"Tony, I have Carol Danvers on the line. She said that it was important, or I wouldn't have bothered you."

"Go ahead and patch her through Jocasta," Tony replied looking up from the electronic circuits he had been working on.

"One last thing Tony. She asked me to scramble the channel."

Tony raised an eyebrow at the pronouncement, but indicated that she should go ahead and comply with the request.

Short moments later, Jocasta's image was replaced by one of Carol Danvers.

"Carol, what can I do for you?"

"Tony, we have a problem. The Brood are in town."

After a moments pause to absorb the information that would have stopped most people in their tracks he replied, "How do you know?"

The was a brief moment of silence before the voice on the other end replied, "I had a flash of awareness, or maybe Seventh Sense. I'm not exactly sure what to call it these days."

"You know for certain that they are already here?"

"From what I saw, not proof positive, no. But when I put everything together with what I learnt from Reed, I think I can safely say they are here."

"What did Reed have to say that would tie into this?" he asked. Carol couldn't see the puzzled look on his face, but she would be able to hear the tone in his voice. It had taken a some time to remember that after he had modified the telephone lines to use the image-maker software he had created, that the other person could not see him. It allowed him to see a generated image of the person on the other end and tried to emulate the tones coming from the conversation. It wasn't perfect yet, but it helped sometimes.

"Basically, that the changes in my powers were due to someone or something manipulating me. Also, that someone, had to be based here in Seattle, as my power levels increased the longer I stayed in New York, while they've decreased again since I returned."

Carol didn't mention that Reed had provided her with a handheld scanning device so that she could continue to test herself.

She continued, "Who else, other than the Brood, would have knowledge of how to best manipulate my powers as they were the ones who first gave them to me."

Tony pondered the rationale briefly, and came to the conclusion that it made a certain amount of sense. "I didn't know that you were having flashes again."

"I wasn't until today," she replied.

"What do you need me to do?"

"Well, we are thinking that if they are still hiding inside their host, we have limited ways of tracking them. Can you come up with something that would help?"

Tony wondered momentarily who the 'we' was, but instead said, "That could be difficult as the best option would be to scan for their brainwaves, but I don't have a pattern to work from."

"Couldn't you reverse the idea," came male voice, "and search for anything that didn't have a human pattern?"

Tony thought that he recognized the voice, but couldn't put a name to it. Frowning he thought about the idea before responding, "It wouldn't be as accurate, but it would give you a starting point. You would still need to have some other means of testing if it was accurate afterwards."

"That's OK, we have a method for close-up identification," Carol replied.

"If you come by in the morning I should be able to get something ready for you. Do you need Iron Man's help with this?"

"Not right now, but I'll keep you in the loop. It'll depend on how many we are dealing with - plus if they have used super-powered hosts. I'll drop by tomorrow. Thanks Tony."

The line went dead and Tony Stark stood there thinking about the things he had just heard.

"Quickly, I want to be out of here before anyone notices that we're here."

"Silence your whining. We need to complete this correctly or our hides will be missing."

The two figures moved through the deserted building heading it appeared to some particular destination. The second was short, no more than four feet tall, and was wearing a green and yellow bodysuit. The first was taller and carried a staff of some sort. He also wore the same colors, although the design on the suit was different.

"This is the room according to the map I have," stated the first figure.

The door to the room was one of the few things still standing, and the fact that was made from omnium-enhanced steel probably had something to do with it.

"Keep watch," said the dwarf as he considered the impressive door in front of him.

Stretching his hands out towards it, sickly yellow colored tendrils began to form and writhe towards the door. Upon contacting it they slowly began to burn into it. Within moments they had eaten through the area surrounding the locking mechanism and formed a hole from the top to the bottom of the doors edge.

With a thought the tendrils vanished and the dwarf reached out and pulled the door open casually. "We're in," he said to his companion.

Both men entered the room and quickly looked around for the item they had come for. It was surrounded by a force field. The taller man approached the device and looked around the base, searching for something.

"Exactly where the boss said it would be," he said as he jammed the staff he was carrying into it.

With a flash of energy, the circuits activating the force field were fried and the field itself died. Within a grin, the taller man reached in and picked up the devices lying there.

"I'm sure the boss will make much better use of these than Microsoft ever could," he told his diminutive companion.

He was answered with a malicious smile and the words, "Let's get out of here Killobyte."

Tony looked up from the circuitry he had been working on with a satisfied smile, which turned into a grunt of pain as he unwound the tight muscles in his back. He looked down at his work and the smile returned once more. This had taken a lot more planning than many of the projects he had been working on recently, but that meant the end result was much more satisfying.

"Jocasta."

The view screen in front of him changed in the digital representation of the "ghost" currently inhabiting his houses central computer system. "Yes Tony."

"It's finished."

"What is?" she asked with genuine puzzlement.

"A unit large enough to contain your consciousness, yet small enough to fit into a human sized shell. That's what I've spent the last five hours working on. Would you like to test it?"

A look of surprise was displayed on the digital face, which retained the golden robotic features her body had possessed. "I would like that very much," she replied.

"Let me just hook this unit up to the mainframe and you can slip inside. I want you to move in slowly so I can chart the capacity. Just in case I miscalculated somewhere along the line."

Jocasta's image smiled and raised an electronic eyebrow at that. There was no way Tony would have suggested she try the device out, if he thought there was any risk, she thought.

Watching through the cameras mounted in the lab, which currently acted as her eyes, she saw Tony Stark connect the spherical device to a dataport via a cable.

"Give it a try," he said as he watched several monitors.

Taking a deep, figurative breath, the entity known as Jocasta began to send her conscious through the dataport, down the cable and into the device that the genius of Tony Stark had created.

Tony watched the data scroll across his monitors, and nodded his head. Everything was going exactly as he has theorized. As the figures began to level out and then stopped on the screens, he asked, "Are you completely inside?"

The monitor on the wall answered, "Yes, although it is currently a little dark in here, for want of a better frame of reference. It's a little like being in sensory deprivation."

"Sorry. This is only the 'brain' if you would like to think of it that way. We still have to hook it into a body, but that's the easier part. Perhaps you'd like to get back into the main system now."

Tony watched as the numbers on his screens flashed by until they read zero again and the image of Jocasta reappeared on the view screen.

"I based the design on the visions 'brain' and the work that Hank Pym has done on Ultron. It's the closest we can currently get to constructing an electronic version of the human brain. The data I got shows that you are only currently using fifty percent of the total capacity, so it gives you plenty of room to grow."

"Tony I don't know how to thank you."

He smiled up at the face that he had come to know as a friend since she had inhabited his mainframe. "You can let me take you dancing when I complete the job and give you a body," he said.

"I would have thought that might cause a stir?" she replied.

"If I was planning on a body similar to your previous one, I'd agree," he answered. "However, if you pull up the files in directory A-Alpha-13, you'll see I have something else in mind."

The eyes on the image widened as the files came on screen next to her. "Tony, this is incredible."

"Well, we'll see when it's complete. Once I have my suit out of the repair tanks, I'll configure them to start building this."

"The damage repairs to your suit were complete approximately one hour ago. The suit is as good as new."

"Is it that late already?"

"Yes, and as you have forgotten about it, you have a dinner date this evening, which you need to get ready for."

"I'd forgotten about that. I'll get the tanks started for the initial phase and then I'll go shower."

"Tony, it can wait until..."

"Nonsense. Don't you know it's very fashionable to be late," he interrupted with a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

"I would like to see Mr.Stark," Detective Plexico stated calmly to the voice pad.

"I'm afraid that Mr.Stark is about to leave, if you would like to leave..."

Plexico cut off the voice on the other end of the intercom, "Please tell him that Detective Plexico needs to speak with him on police business."

He hated using that line, especially when the business in question had little to do with man he was here to see. However, he needed to a break on this case, and he was hoping that Tony Stark's reputation as a genius would resolve the mystery his own pathologist had given him.

"Please come up Detective," the voice said as the door opened before him.

After climbing the stairs, Plexico entered a large receiving room where Tony Stark was awaiting him. He was dressed in dark pants, and a white shirt that was open at the collar. A bow tie was draped around his neck.

He smiled at the detective and went to shake his hand, which Plexico returned. "How can I help you detective?"

"I apologize for disturbing you, sir, but I was wondering if you would take a look at something and give me your opinion."

"Certainly. What is it?"

Plexico rummaged inside his coat pocket and produced a glass microscope slide. "My own pathologists are baffled by this, and I was hoping that you might know where I might find someone who could explain it."

Intrigued, in spite of the approaching deadline of his date's arrival, Tony indicated he'd be willing to take a look. He montioned for the detective to follow him, and turned to lead him into one of the small labs on this floor.

"What exactly am I looking at, detective?"

"I'd rather you took a look before I said anything more."

Tony looked quizzically at the man, but shrugged his shoulders and took the slide from him. "OK," he said, "Let's see what we have."

He settled the slide in place, and turned on the monitor. It flared to life and slowly displayed the image of cells from the slide underneath the microscope. An apprehensive look came over Tony's face as he studied the picture in front of him, and his fingers began to flash across the keyboard.

When he looked up at the detective, the look on his face was nothing but serious. "Where did you get this?"

"From a corpse we found. Why?"

Tony indicated that the detective should join him. On the monitor were two pictures.

"Have you seen the contents of the slide?" he asked.

The detective nodded, amazed at what he was seeing.

"Which of these is yours?" Tony asked.

"I have no idea, although I suspect it's this one," he said pointing at one of the images.

"You are correct, although, about the only difference is the slightly enhanced mobility of these cells. Which as I'm sure you are aware, should be impossible if they came of a corpse."

"Where did you get that from?" Plexico asked, indicating the other image.

"It was also taken from a 'corpse'. It was part of a plan by an LMD within SHIELD, and is called the Infinity Formula. It basically gives the gift of life to LMD's."

"What the heck is an LMD?"

"That's a long and complicated story detective, and one I'd be happy to share with you, but it will have to be tomorrow. I apologize, but I have a charity event that I'm committed to this evening."

"I can come back tomorrow morning, if that's OK," the detective offered. He didn't really want to stop, but he could see from Stark's attitude that he wouldn't get anything from pushing.

"Tomorrow morning would be fine," Tony said as he showed the detective out.

Tony sat at the table, chatting with his date for the evening. He couldn't remember how he had originally met her, but at least she was pleasant company, and surprisingly intelligent.

"Why did you begin to fund the Avengers?"

The question took him by surprise, although he quickly responded, "Mainly due to the amount of good they do for the world. Don't you think they should receive funding?"

"Certainly. I was interested in how they came to have the Maria Stark Foundation as a sponsor. It's not exactly the sort of group that the foundation is usually involved with."

"Well, initially it was by accident. My bodyguard, Iron Man, joined forces with Giant Man, the Wasp and Thor to stop a rampage by the Hulk. They quickly discovered that they worked well together, and that's where I stepped in. Over the years, the Avengers have come to be seen as the premier super group. Although I'm sure the Fantastic Four would dispute that."

As the two continued their discussion, several other people at the table joined in.

"Why did you kill Jonathon Tremont?" asked a very bitter voice.

Tony turned to look at the man sitting across the table, and took a deep breath before answering.

"The way I understand it, Mr.Tremont killed himself. It was an elaborately conceived suicide, to make him a..."

"That's a very clever way of getting your people out from a murder rap, but there are those of us who don't believe it. What's more, one day we'll prove it."

"I'm sorry that you feel that way, but the evidence was very conclusive. I'd be happy to share it with you."

Any reply the man was about to make was cut off as the doors to the hall they were in slammed open. Tony looked up and his eyes narrowed as he took in the figures of Boomerang, Blizzard and Shatterfist.

Tony slowly lifted his arm to his mouth as the three villains introduced themselves to the guests and spoke into the small communicator built into his wristwatch.

"Jocasta I'm going to need my bodyguard here. It appears we have a situation."

Tony watched as the three villains closed the doors to the hall and began moving into the room. It became immediately obvious that they were looking for something.

"we can make this easy on everyone if you just tell us where Tony Stark is hiding," stated Boomerang in his deep Australian accent.

Tony noticed the man opposite had a smug look on his face, but that changed to disappointment as Tony stood before he had a chance to say anything.

"I'm Tony Stark. What can I do for you gentlemen."

"Well mate, it seems that you've upset someone. Now, that someone asked us to point out the error of your ways and we agreed. Of course, we expect that your tin-plated bodyguard is around somewhere, so we'll need to make this quick."

Tony watched Shatterfist approach as Boomerang talked. He only knew him by the reputation he had gained from the fight he had given Thor.

As a punch flew towards his face he managed to roll backwards, but the force of the blow sent him to the ground. Looking up at the grinning face of his assailant, he knew he was in a whole world of trouble.


	13. Back Against The Wall

Iron Man

Chapter 13: The Hammer Must Fall Part 2

"Back Against The Wall"

Tony Stark looked up from where he lay on the polished wood floor of the ballroom at the figure who had put him there.

The man standing there was dressed in a brown leather jacket over a black shirt and black pants. The brown leather headgear he wore looked like something from a 1950's football game. The look returned was a mix of equal parts humor and malice.

"So I'm just supposed to stand here while you three bozos beat me to death?"

"You're not exactly in a position to be calling anyone names, but don't worry, we're not here to kill you. Just teach you a lesson. Isn't that right Blizzard?"

Tony Stark looked in the direction of the laughter that accompanied the comment.

"Yeah. A lesson you won't forget anytime soon," the figure in the ice blue bodysuit finally said around his laughter.

"I didn't realize that Justin was the vengeful type. I must have hurt his pride more than his jaw," Tony said with venom in his voice.

Another voice cut across the two villains, as the villain known as Boomerang came into view.

"Don't know what you're talking about mate," he replied in an overly cautious voice, "we simply received a commission to rough you up a bit. Easy money, if you ask me. Of course, I'm sure me and the boys wouldn't mind if you tried to fight back."

The emphasis he placed on the word 'tried' was not lost on anyone in the crowded room.

As Tony levered himself back to his feet, he looked at the apparent ringleader of what he saw as a three-ring circus and said, "Of course, if I fight back you just hold these good people hostage, or maybe even start hurting them. Isn't that in the villains handbook?"

"I don't think it'll come to that mate, but just in case, you have my word that we'll leave all these good people alone."

Tony looked at the man in the purple and blue outfit and realized that he didn't believe a word that had just come out of his mouth. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything else he could do. At least this way he had a chance to defend himself. Slowly he removed his jacket and tie, and loosened the collar of his shirt.

"So what are the rules?" he asked trying to buy extra time. "Three onto one seems a little unfair."

Boomerang looked back at Stark not quite believing what he was hearing. "He acts like he's the one in charge here," he thought, "although I guess it's not going to change things."

His eyes brightened as he replied, "Nice tactic Stark. Trying to stall for time until your tin-suited bodyguard arrives? I'm sure that ShatterFist here, will be more than enough to sort you out."

Tony looked at the man in the brown leather jacket and took in the gauntlets he was wearing. He had a vague memory of something in the Avengers files about a guy called ShatterFist fighting Thor, but that was about all he could remember.

He saw the tightening of his opponent's eyes a moment before his arm lashed out. Fortunately, it was enough for someone trained by the legendary Captain America to avoid the blow. He slid his body to the right and the punch flew by harmlessly.

Slowly he moved onto the balls of his feet and circled. He noticed the frustration on his opponents face. He thought he'd nail me with the first blow, Tony realized. He smiled at his opponent, who glared back at him.

This creep is making me look bad, thought the man called ShatterFist. With that thought, he immediately went on a more aggressive offensive and launched a flurry of punches. The first straight jab met nothing more than air, and the follow up body punch found little more.

A smile appeared on his face as his third punch made contact with Stark's upper arm. Not exactly where I was aiming, he thought, but better than another miss.

As the thought passed through his mind he suddenly realized that his feet were no longer on the floor. With an explosion of breath he landed with a thump.

Looking up he saw Stark standing over him. "Judo," was all he said.

Pushing back to his feet, ShatterFist caught the smirk on the face of Boomerang. Throwing himself forward once again, he launched another set of punches at the man who had made a fool of him. The anger was surging through his system now, as the years of being treated as a nobody were brought back to him.

Tony Stark back-pedaled under the furious assault, using the moves he had learnt over the years to prevent ShatterFist from scoring a direct hit. Continuing to watch the sequences that his opponent was using, he finally stepped in underneath a punch aimed at his nose and jabbed his straightened fingers into the armpit that had been exposed.

The move had left him exposed and even flinging himself backwards, was not enough to stop being hit by a flailing punch from the other hand of his opponent. Fortunately, the blow landed on the side of his head and was softened by rolling with it.

Rolling to his feet, Tony put a hand to his head and it came away with a small amount of blood. He looked up and smiled as he saw the right arm of his opponent hanging uselessly. He noted the look of surprise on the man's face that was turning to fury rapidly. Tony didn't give him to chance to respond. Stepping in, he gripped the sleeve of ShatterFist's good arm 

with one hand and his jacket with the other. Pivoting sharply he launched the helpless villain over his shoulder and into the air.

Blizzard, who had been splitting his time watching the fight and the crowd was caught off-guard as ShatterFist slammed into him. Both villains dropped to the floor and crashed into one of the tables, which promptly caused that to crash on top of them.

Tony Stark spared no time watching the havoc he had created. He hoped that his throw had landed ShatterFist where he wanted him, and the sounds that erupted as he lept towards the remaining member of the trio, seemed to indicate success.

While Boomerang had been surprised by Stark's skill and the fact that he had beaten ShatterFist, he was also more ready when Stark sprang at him. With blinding speed he whipped a hand out and launched one of his patented boomerangs. The weapon hit Tony on the upper chest exactly where it had been aimed, but after a brief pause he continued forward with a grunt of pain.

Boomerang moved backwards attempting to make room to launch another of his weapons as Tony Stark kept coming forward. He managed to launch a second boomerang that whipped past the oncoming body of Stark, exactly as Boomerang had intended. Tony reached for the arm that the villain had extended in throwing the boomerang and used his own momentum to execute a textbook prefect throw. Unfortunately, for Boomerang at least, he didn't let go of the arm. With a wrenching noise, followed by a scream from Boomerang, the villain hit the floor hard.

"You dislocated my shoulder you..."

Whatever other words the villain added went unheard as the boomerang that had been hurled activated. Everyone in the room grabbed their ears as the deafening screech emitted by the Screamerang flooded the room. A moment later, the noise abated and Tony began to run for the exit to the room.

He was almost by the main door when his momentum was halted as icy cold began to seep into his body from the waist down. He cursed as he looked down to see the lower half of his body encased in ice, although it almost turned into a laugh when he looked around to see Blizzard standing behind him, near the dance floor. The villain was covered in food and drink from the table that had collapsed on him.

"Going somewhere," he asked as he was joined by Boomerang.

The two villains did not appear to be pleased with the current situation. Blizzard looked like he had just taken part in a food fight that he had lost, badly. While Boomerang had his right arm cradled against his chest and his face was contorted in anger.

"I know the orders we had, but you just earned yourself something more, rich boy," spat Boomerang.

The two villains began to walk towards him, and Tony realized that he was in big trouble. He wondered briefly if he should just have taken the beating, but he quickly squashed the idea.

Suddenly, as the villains passed the table where he had originally been sitting, one of the men stood up and hurriedly picked up the chair he had been sitting on. Tony held his breath as he watched the two villains continue to move toward him, unaware of what was going on behind them.

The man, who Tony now recognized as the one that had accused him of murdering Jonathon Tremont earlier, rushed up behind the two villains and brought the chair crashing down across the back of their heads.

The force knocked both villains to their knees and brought a fresh scream of pain from Boomerang. However, they were both wearing kevlar-reinforced costumes and the blow had not been enough to knock them out.

Tony watched, unable to do anything, as Blizzard rolled around to face his new assailant. A column of ice blasted from his hands and hit the man square in the chest. He was thrust back several feet and came down on the floor hard. The room gasped as he failed to move.

"Anyone else want to try something?" Blizzard asked looking around the hall. The ice in his voice and the sight of the man lying on the floor were enough for the remaining guests to keep their heads down.

Both villains approached Tony with no further incidents and he tensed himself as Boomerang's good arm smacked him twice in the face. Shaking his head to clear the stars, he felt the breath leave his lungs in a gush as another blow found his stomach.

He was surprised when no further blows were forth coming and he lifted his head as he tried to regain his breath. Boomerang was standing there with a grin that Tony thought would have looked good on Mephisto. In his hand he held another boomerang. Tony's heart fell as he recognized it as a Razorrang.

"Don't look so clever now, do we mate? You're going to need a fair bit of plastic surgery when I'm finished with you."

As he raised the weapon to strike, the explosion of the dome roof above the dance floor startled him. Powering his way through the gap, was the Red and Gold Avenger, Iron Man.

Tony gawked at the sight, unable to comprehend what he was seeing as an older version of his armor burst into the room. He heard Boomerang mutter something he thought might have been a curse, before he launched the boomerang he had been holding at Iron Man.

Iron Man ignored the weapon and unleashed his repulsors at the two villains. Both villains evaded the blasts, Blizzard by forming on ice shield in front of him, and Boomerang by taking to the air.

Tony wanted to shout out a warning about the danger of the boomerang that was even now approaching Iron Man from behind, but he was still regaining his breath after being winded by Boomerang's last punch. At seemingly the last moment, Iron Man veered to one side and the boomerang sailed past harmlessly. As it rocketed back towards where Boomerang had thrown it from, Iron Man hit it with a low powered burst from his repulsors.

Tony watched amazed as the weapon was deflected to hit the ice that was sheathing his lower body. As the ice shattered, he fell to the floor, his legs too numb to support him.

Both villains decided to take advantage of their opponent's concentration on freeing his employee, and unleashed their own attacks. Blizzard sent an ice ram hurtling towards Iron Man, while Boomerang launched two more of his trademark weapons in quick succession.

Neither attack found its mark, as Iron Man executed a spiral roll which brought him closer to Boomerang. He fired twin repulsor bursts that found their target on the villains boot jets. The resulting pressure changes caused the boot jets to misfire and Boomerang began to fall toward the floor. Behind him, the two boomerangs that the villain had thrown impacted against the ice ram and shattered it with a loud explosion.

Iron Man glanced behind at the explosion and then turned to grab the falling Boomerang. As he flew towards the villain he pointed his arm backwards and released a wide-area repulsor burst without looking back. The ice that had been falling towards the now panicked crowd below was disintegrated and Iron Man caught Boomerang before delivering a knockout punch to his temple.

Setting the now unconscious villain on the ground, Iron Man turned and walked towards Blizzard. Tony was surprised when Blizzard remained where he was and even crossed his arms over his chest.

Iron Man however, continued to advance on the villain. Tony suddenly felt the icy cold chill in the air that was emanating from Blizzard. He was surprised as Iron Man's advance began to slow, but suddenly realized what was occurring. He picked up a chunk of the ice that he had been trapped in, and hurled it at the villain. It struck solidly against his back and the chill in the air briefly abated.

"Iron Man," Tony yelled, "take to the air and take him out with ranged attacks."

Immediately, boot jets flared to life and Iron Man took to the air again. Blizzard looked back at Tony Stark and he didn't need to see underneath the mask to realize the snarl that was directed at him. Tony tried to force life back into his legs as Blizzard brought his arms to bear in his direction, but they were still too numb.

Before Blizzard could release his latest attack he was blown backwards by the repulsor blasts that hammered into him. Tony watched in awe, as blast after blast hit the moving figure of Blizzard as he was blown back into the wall of the room. The blasts stopped to reveal an unconscious Blizzard slumped against the wall.

Iron Man flew down to Tony's side and was about to pick him up when he said, "Check on that man first," indicating the man that had tried to help him.

Iron Man hesitated briefly, but recognized the look on Tony's face and moved quickly to check on the man who had attacked the two villains with a chair. Stooping, Iron Man used the armor to check the life signs of the man. He was stable, but simply unconscious.

Iron Man stood quickly and pivoted to face the direction of the dance floor. A blow to the mid-section sent the armor flying backwards through the air. Struggling to right itself, Iron 

Man eventually turned to face ShatterFist. His one arm still hung to his side, but the gauntlet on his left hand glowed blue with energy.

Iron Man unleashed a tight repulsor blast at the villain. However, he raised his gauntlet and absorbed the power before sending it back at the armored Avenger. Iron Man easily evaded the attack and returned it with one of his own.

ShatterFist and several other people around him were sent to their knees as they tried to cover their ears. Slowly, Iron Man refined the effect until it was focused entirely on the villain. To Iron Man's surprise the villain was struggling to raise his right hand, but he reacted quickly and sent a repulsor blast at the villain along with the white noise he was generating.

ShatterFist was hit squarely in the back of the head by the blast and collapsed. Iron Man flew down and grasping the gauntlets ShatterFist was wearing he sent an electrical current into them. Satisfied with the smoke that issued from them, he returned to Tony Stark's side.

"I'm fine. Make sure the police are on their way, and I'll meet you back at the house," Tony Stark told his waiting bodyguard.

Smiling up at the armored figure he added, "Thanks."

Iron Man inclined his head and with a whine of boot jets took off through the hole he had originally made in the ceiling.

On the outermost edge of the Shi'ar controlled space a small planet was being rudely awakened to the concept of war. Being as far from the Shi'ar throne world as they were, they possessed the most rudimentary defenses and little in the way of star faring vessels. As such, they immediately opted to surrender to the mass of ships that had suddenly appeared close to their planet.

The local Shi'ar governor had been outraged by the decision and had ordered his own small cadre of troops to take control of the transmitting stations and countermand the offer. While a brave thing to do, and one that his Empress would have undoubtedly rewarded generously, it was also suicidal.

The governor had no concept of who he was dealing with, and when the commander of the fleet of warships surrounding the small world received the second message, those close by her were chilled by the smile that played over her lips.

The Skrull sitting at the communication console wasted no time in transmitting the orders his commander had relayed to the rest of the fleet. He then turned and said, "Mistress, the orders have been sent."

Nebula leaned back in her chair and watched avidly as devastation was unleashed on the small world that had attempted to defy her.

Tony sat down in a comfortable chair in his house and leaned back.

"Jocasta?"

"Yes Tony," came the reply from the speakers embedded into the walls of the room.

"I'm confused about something. How did you manage to overide the security protocols on the Neuro-Mimetic suit? They should have destroyed the armor the moment you tried to activate it."

"The suit thought it was you. I was aware of the protocols you established in the armor, so before entering it, I took the copies of your own brain engrams and used them as camouflage for my own. It slowed down my response time as I had to pass through an additional layer. I apologise for taking so long to reach you."

Tony looked up from the glass of water he had been examining as Jocasta spoke and thought wryly, "She used the armor almost better than I can and she's apologising for being slow."

He shook his head and replied, "Thank you, I would have been in a whole lot of trouble if you hadn't turned up when you did. I guess I know why I took the combat lesson with Cap and Agent. I didn't do badly considering I was up against three super villains."

Tony continued with a smile playing around his bruised mouth, "I guess I'd better head to bed for a few hours. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. Would you do something for me Jocasta?"

"Certainly Tony. What do you need?"

"Would you run the Stealth armor through it's diagnostic sequences and ensure it's fully charged. I'll be needing it tomorrow night to pay an unofficial visit on Justin. If he wants to make this a war, then I'll be happy to oblige."


	14. Angry Responses

Iron Man

Chapter 14: The Hammer Must Fall Part 3

"Angry Responses"

"I'm curious as to why your pathologists were looking at a dead persons cells. From that alone I can only presume that they didn't die of natural causes."

Tony Stark looked over his desk at the man sitting across from him. He was a plain, average man in his mid thirties until you looked into his eyes. Tony recognized the look as he saw it looking back at him from his bedroom mirror every morning. It was filled with intelligence, mixed with pain and determination.

"No sir, she did not. In fact, we've now been able to identify twelve bodies spread across the United States over the last three years that all bear the same characteristics."

"Can you tell me the details Detective?"

The detective picked up a large manila envelope and handed it across the desk.

"I figured you'd need more information, so I brought that with me. It's pretty much everything we have on the case to date. We're still waiting for more information on a couple of the earliest deaths."

Tony took the proffered envelope and opened it as he listened to the detective. Inside was a single beige folder that Tony withdrew and opened.

"Mr.Stark? What is it?"

The detective was on his feet when he saw the look of disbelief appear on Tony's face. He watched as Stark physically shook himself and looked up at the waiting detective.

"Have you identified this woman? Do you know who she is?"

Plexico identified the pain and anger mingled in the question and he replied quietly, "The name we have should be on the top of the picture. Why? Do you know her?"

Tony nodded his head once slowly. "Yes. He real name is Whitney Frost."

"If that's the case sir, then who are the others?"

Tony looked steadily back at the detective for long moments as his brain tried to digest the shock it had received. Then he looked back down at the folder and began to leaf through it. The women in each photograph were identical, except for the clothes they were wearing.

After long moment of silence as he went through the folder one more time, Tony took a deep breath and asked, "The cell structure was identical for each of these woman?"

"As far as we know yes. We've only been able to have six of the bodies checked, but I think we can safely say that the others will turn out the same."

"Who is Whitney Frost? What can you tell me about her?"

"She also uses the name 'Madame Masque'. I guess she would be classified as a criminal," Tony answered.

"You know this woman personally?"

Plexico noticed the tightening around Stark's eyes in response to his question, and he didn't really need any more confirmation.

"Yes. We were once very close. Her father is the villain, Count Nefaria. She was trying to cut her ties to him, but it never really worked."

"Does she possess any powers?"

"No. Although she is in superb condition and has genius level intelligence," Tony looked back down at the notes in the folder as he answered.

"From what I'm seeing here, the first murder occurred almost three years ago in El Paso. There doesn't appear to be any pattern to the killings, either with regards to time or location. A group of three in the Southern US but spread over two years, and then another two within two weeks of each other and both in New York. Why did you come to me Detective?" he asked as he suddenly looked up and pierced the man with his eyes.

"I was at a dead end. I needed to do something different, and my partner made a joke about talking to you, simply based on your known association with the Avengers. I certainly didn't think you knew the woman, if that's what you're wondering."

Tony's gaze held the detective for moments longer before he nodded and said, "The Infinity Formula was developed within SHIELD by a group of rogue agents. In fact it turned out that they weren't actually the agents, but a group of LMD's that had replaced them. One of their number had become amazingly self-aware and had been manipulating the process to benefit itself."

Tony paused for a moment to let the information sink in before continuing.

"The problem was, and still is, that the LMD cell structure is very unstable. He had to constantly create new bodies for himself and his followers, so he went to work on something to stabilize the cells. That something is called the Infinity Formula. It's a remarkable piece of work, as it can literally be the Fountain of Youth. You can still be killed, but the suppression on cell aging is amazing."

"What happened to this man and his followers? I'm presuming that they failed somehow."

"Yes they did. He used the mind and bodies of several high level SHIELD agents during the process, but unfortunately for him they retained some of their loyalties. Several sacrificed themselves to stop him."

"So what happened to this formula?" the detective asked puzzled. "Surely they destroyed it."

"That's exactly what I had been led to believe, but this would tell me differently."

"So based on what you've told me Mr.Stark, these murdered woman are all - what did you call them? - LMD's?" He continued as Tony nodded. "So who would want them dead?"

"There's not really much evidence here that gives us a clear answer to that question," he replied, "but I'd have to put SHIELD on the list. Maybe they're still cleaning up from the original mess."

"You don't believe that any more than I do," the detective responded shortly.

"No, I don't. But I don't have another answer right now. May I keep these," he asked indicating the contents of the folder.

"So long as you don't go giving them to the media," the detective responded with a wry grin.

"I won't take anymore of your time Mr.Stark, and I'm grateful for the time you've given me. You look like you need to rest. From everything I've heard you had a long night."

Tony grimaced and then grinned, "It was a different kind of date."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help," he continued. "It looks like I've given you more questions than answers."

The detective waved off the words and the two men said their goodbyes.

Tony Stark sat at his desk for a long time afterwards thinking on the meaning of the things he had learned that morning.

"Excellent work gentlemen. This chip will assist in our plans for this city. Did you leave any traces?"

While softened by time spent elsewhere, the voice bore the distinctive accent of Germany. The last question was asked brusquely and the two men it was aimed at knew that anything other than a positive answer would lead to trouble.

"No Master. The building was empty, as we suspected after the damage that was caused by the behemoths rampage. We were very careful."

"Good. The appearance of the behemoth and the resulting destruction he caused was of benefit to us. You are both dismissed."

With a sigh of relief both men turned and walked out of the darkened room.

The lighting in the room was dimmed enough to make the man who remained little more than a silhouette, however that was sufficient to make most look on in awe. He stood approximately six feet tall and was very muscular. He stalked purposefully back to the sole chair in the room and sat.

"Soon," he stated quietly, "the glory of Hydra will rise once more."

"Emilio, I only have about eight hours of work remaining on the proposals that you hired me for. Are you now telling me that you no longer require them?"

Tony managed to keep his voice level, but he was severely annoyed with the caller on the other end.

"I'm sorry Tony, but we find that we no longer require the work you were doing."

Tony heard the sense of distaste in the caller's voice for the information he was imparting, but he also heard the resignation. Fighting with him wasn't going to do any good.

"Did the Board pull the plug on this Emilio?"

"Yes. They feel that we are no longer in a position to follow that particular course of business is the li.." he stopped himself and then continued, "ah hmm, is what I was told."

"They do realize that they'll have to pay for the time I've already invested in this project?"

"Tony, they believe that they only had to pay for the results."

"What?" Tony exploded. "They cannot seriously expect me to shelve two months of work and pick up the tab for it?"

"Tony, I'm the middle man in this. I'm only repeating what they have told me."

Taking a deep breath, Tony Stark replied, "You'd better let your Board know that they can expect a call from my lawyer if the bill is not paid by the end of the month."

With that, Tony cut the connection and stood up.

That was the second piece of bad news had had been given today. The first had involved another company that had decided against hiring his services. He had thought that it had been a done deal, but they had changed their minds at the last minute. Now this.

"I wonder if Justin has people on the boards of those companies," he pondered out loud.

"Jocasta?"

"Yes Tony," came the prompt reply that seemed to emanate from the walls of the room.

"Can you see what you can find out about the board members of TNG of Seattle and A&E Construction? I want to know how many of them have ties to Justin Hammer. Or if he's involved in any way with them."

"Certainly Tony. Where will you be?"

"I'm heading down to the Level 2 lab. I need to do something to take my mind off this mornings business. Maybe I'm seeing shadows where there aren't any, but this reeks of Justin's handiwork," he added.

Tony headed for the door and walked down the hallway to the stairs. Taking the longer route, he paused in front of the door to the room that was occupied by Pepper Potts.

He knew that Sampson had requested he avoid Pepper, but that made him feel helpless. He paused as he passed the room and was surprised to hear laughter and music coming through the doorway. He smiled and turned to reach for the door handle.

"Boss?"

Pulling his hand back, Tony felt like a kid who had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Yes Happy," he responded.

"I thought Doc Sampson asked you to stay away from Pepper until he gave you the go ahead. Has he talked to you?"

Tony noted the hope present in his old friends voice and that made him feel guiltier.

"No Happy, he hasn't. I just feel so darn helpless."

Happy Hogan smiled at his friend and answered, "That's OK boss. Pep is really doing much better, but she still wakes up terrified at night. I'm sure it won't be long before you'll be able to see her again."

Tony smiled up at his friend. "I guess you're right. Keep me up to date on her would you?"

"Sure thing boss," he replied as he moved past Tony and opened the door.

Tony turned and continued his walk to the lab.

Tony lifted the mask back from his face as he turned off the welding torch.

"That's the final part of the tank complete," he thought. "Now I just need to add the shell and the fluids and we'll see if this works."

Working with care, Tony took a humanoid metal shell and placed it into the tank. After attaching cables to various parts of the shell, he stepped back and began to work on the 

computer terminal attached to the tank. Half an hour later Tony sat back and looked at the process occurring before his eyes.

"Every trial and simulation I attempted worked fine, so this should too. Hopefully the scale won't affect the process," he muttered aloud.

In the tank bright green fluid now swirled around the shell and what looked like bubbles kept the tank cloudy enough that it wasn't possible to see exactly what was occurring. Turning away, as the process was going to take many more hours to complete, Tony walked over to another bench and began examining the pieces of armor laying there.

"Tony?"

Looking up from his study, Tony replied, "Yes Jocasta?"

"Justin Hammer has no obvious connections to either of the companies you asked about. He has had dealings with executives from both in the past, but nothing that would indicate that they are working for him."

"He's made no financial moves towards either of them?"

"None that I could trace. Both companies have done work for his holdings previously, but there are no current contracts."

"Maybe I was just being paranoid," he replied but the look on his face said he didn't really think so.

"If I may offer a suggestion?"

"Go ahead."

"Have you seen the news reports about last nights events?"

"No. I try to avoid the non-business news whenever I can," Tony answered and with a smile continued, "It tends to depress me too much."

"Several of the people from last nights event have been interviewed. Two remembered you mentioning the name of 'Justin' during the altercation. Some of the news media have asked whether that was a reference to Justin Hammer. Could that have caused the problems today?"

"It's certainly possible. If people think there's a war going on between him and I, they may be reluctant to get in the middle of it. It seems that he may have gotten the first blow in after all," he responded with frustration evident in his voice.

"It's time I took the armor out and went to see what I can see. It's time to hit back."

"Be careful Tony. Justin Hammer can be dangerous."

"So can I Jocasta. But this is going to be a simple information gathering exercise."

"Simple information gathering exercise, my foot!" Tony Stark fumed mentally as he reviewed the events leading up to him trying to outrun a rocket that was rapidly gaining on him.

I should have realized that it was too simple to slip into Hammer's headquarters. I know how good this armor is, but I should have seen the lack of security guards.

"Too busy patting yourself on the back weren't you Stark," Tony raged silently, as he took to the air. He ignored the fact that he had been too intent on hurting Justin Hammer.

Tony had used the capabilities of the recently upgraded stealth armor to make his way into the sub-basement. While he still hadn't figured out how the Ghost managed to create a invisibility field in his armor, Tony had modified his chameleon effect and incorporated it into this latest suit. He activated that function from the armor's HUD and he blended into the smoke that now filled the room.  
Head's Up Display

He had taken time to break into the computer center, and was pretty sure that he hadn't set off any alarms there. So how had this group of would-be mercenaries taken him by surprise? Could Hammer have kept the group around simply on the chance he would break in here? That made no sense either, as Justin Hammer wasn't one to pay out money on the off chance that something would happen. Justin usually worked on making things happen.

Tony engaged the suits radar and sonar scanners and rapidly pinpointed three other people in the room with him. Unfortunately that left two other members of the Death Squad unaccounted for. Tony struggled to match the scan data he was receiving with his memories of the mercenaries. "This would be so much easier if I had my regular armor on," he thought.

"If memory serves correctly that must be Firefight, Smokescreen and Airborne, but I could be wrong," he concluded.

As one of the targets disappeared, Tony cursed as he confirmed that one of the targets was indeed Smokescreen. A moment later he began weaving back and forth in a frantic attempt to avoid the hail of incoming gunfire. While the armor should be strong enough to take gunfire, he wasn't about to take the chance, especially as it seemed as though they had been prepared for him.

Tony noted the placement of the two mercenaries firing at him and wondered why they were leaving the doorway uncovered. Obviously a trap, he thought, but that's the only way out of here. Considering his option briefly, Iron Man banked steeply to his right and them accelerated downwards. Dipping his shoulder he crashed into the back of the mercenary leader, Firefight. The villain hadn't had any warning so took the full brunt of the impact and crashed heavily to the floor.

Iron Man's audio scanners picked up the slight sound of imploding air and his suits automatic defense systems rolled him out of the way of the small incoming object. Looking in the direction that the object had come from, Tony unleashed a low power blast from the repulsors 

built into his gauntlets. The second mercenary went down hard and Iron Man turned again to face the doorway.

There was another member of the group in the room, but his sensors were not picking him up. Iron Man floated into the air and slowly approached the door while keeping the majority of his systems scanning for the missing mercenary.

Suddenly a body stepped in front of the doorway from the other side and Iron Man reacted swiftly to the sight of the gun-wielding figure with another repulsor blast. At the same moment he felt something impact against the back of the suit. That was the last thing he felt for long moments as the device discharged electricity against the suit.

As the device stopped finished it's discharge Iron Man looked up from the floor where he now knelt expecting to see the members of the Death Squad around him. To his surprise, and relief, he was still on his own.

"Good thing too," he thought, "the armor survived but only barely. Half the systems are offline. No more time to do this slowly."

With that thought he engaged his boot jets and rocketed through the doorway and down the hall. As he careened towards the exit, Tony examined the damage done to the armor. The chameleon effect was down, as were the repulsors. About half of the anti-detection equipment was burnt out, along with most of the scanners. Boot jets were still online and fortunately so was the power unit. The only functioning weapon remaining was the omni-beam.

The lack of the other members of the Death Squad was worrying Tony, but he forged ahead and finally burst out of the building and into the night sky. A hail of gunfire, much of which struck home, met his exit. Iron Man activated the omni-beam and swept it downwards. The gunfire reduced and he poured as much power as possible into his bootjets.

"How are four members of the Death Squad out here if I took out three of them inside?" he wondered tiredly.

Iron Mans remaining scanners detected that he was being pursued and he glanced behind. One of the mercenaries, Airborne, was in hot pursuit, but was not gaining ground. The other presence was gaining rapidly and was cause for much more concern. It was a rocket.

Iron Man forced his damaged armor through the sky with as much speed as it could muster. However, it became quickly obvious that he wasn't going to outrun the rocket.

Iron Man veered downwards and began to weave through the trees and telegraph poles dotting the streets. He cursed as he realized that the rocket had gained on him, as it had not taken the obstacle course that he had. Instead the rocket had maintained just enough height to avoid the obstacles and be able to maintain a straighter course.

"There must be someone guiding it," he thought. "There's no other way it could be doing this."

Glancing back over his shoulder, Iron Man saw the shape of the other pursuer further off in the distance. Perhaps I can rig something to jam the signal, he wondered as he sent his battered armor back up into the open sky.

Tony Stark called up the schematics for the suit to discover that he had precious few resources available. Directing the majority of the suits power once again into the boot jets, he reached over to his forearm and opened the casing. Working feverishly as the suit's poorly functioning radar was reporting that the rocket was constantly gaining on him, Tony patched wires and re-routed damaged circuits.

With the rocket less than fifty feet away Iron Man pivoted and activated the makeshift-jamming device. At first nothing happened but as Tony Stark held his breath the rocket began to nose downwards away from its target.

Tony breathed a sigh of relief as the rocket began to fall away. However, it was short-lived as suddenly it once more changed direction and accelerated upwards directly at him.

In desperation Iron Man cut the power to his boot jets and gravity immediately took effect. The surprise move caused Iron Man to plummet past the rising rocket without it being able to adjust its own course.

Iron Man fell past the rocket, awaiting a moment to re-ignite his boots, when it suddenly exploded. Being caught by surprise, Iron Man had no time to take action and was engulfed by the heat and force.

Tony Stark waded back to reality through the inky blackness that surrounded him. As he tried to focus he felt his vision blur and his stomach lurched. His body felt like a raw mass of pain and the pounding in his head was enough to deafen any outside source.

As the pounding and double vision subsided enough to be able to think, Tony Stark looked out of the eye slits of the Iron Man and up at the impeccably dressed form of Justin Hammer. Behind him stood the five mercenaries that made up the Death Squad.

"Ah Anthony, so glad you finally made it back to the land of the living. We were becoming a little concerned for your well-being," Hammer said with a sick little smile.

The fact that Justin Hammer knew he was inside of the Iron Man armor chilled Tony Stark to the core and he wondered what else could go wrong today.


	15. Murderer

Iron Man

Chapter 15: The Hammer Must Fall Part 4

"Murderer"

Tony Stark looked out of the eye slits in his helmet at Justin Hammer. If looks could kill, Justin Hammer would have dropped dead. Instead he stood there and the smile on his face grew larger until it was almost obscene.

"I am guessing you are wondering how I know that you are in there, aren't you Anthony? Not to mention the fact that not only do I know your little secret, but now so do these ladies and gentlemen."

"I have no idea what you're taking Hammer, but I'm nothing more than Mr.Stark's bodyguard. He prefers not to have to deal with scum like you," snarled Tony from inside the suit.

He strained against the cables holding him in place, but the stealth armor didn't have the strength of his other suit even when it was in full working order. Now, after the beating it had just received, it was a long way from full functionality. Tony glanced through the data being sent to the HUD and knew it was still going to take some time before the primary systems were back online.

"Well in that case you wouldn't mind removing your helmet would you?" Hammer responded with a grin.

"Not a chance Hammer. There's no way you are getting your hands on Mr.Stark's technology again!"

"In a way I'm very glad that you feel that way. However, if you don't do so, I'm going to be forced to kill the ladies and gentlemen behind you. Would you want their deaths on your hands?"

Tony looked up aghast at his long-time rival. Behind him, the members of the Death Squad shared their own glances.

"Don't be so shocked Tony, and please remember that I'm more than willing to carry out my threat."

Firefight, the leader of the Death Squad stepped forward and said, "I don't know exactly what game you're playing here Hammer, but..."

Hammer wasn't even paying attention to the mercenary. His gaze was riveted to Iron Man and his eyes sparkled with an almost mischievous light. Finally, he shook his head slightly and then looked up at the mercenary leader.

"Shut up," he stated simply.

Instead of following the direction, Firefight stepped forward until he was bearing down on the much more diminutive Justin Hammer. "You're in no position to give orders old man," he said angrily, emphasizing his words with a finger stabbed into Hammer's chest.

"To the contrary, I'm in the perfect position to do as I want," Hammer replied as he reached into his jacket.

With Firefight being so close to his employer, the other members of the Squad couldn't see what happened next, but the sudden grunt of their leader told them there was a problem. When he fell to the floor to reveal Hammer standing with a silenced pistol in his hand the remaining members of the group took long seconds to shake off the shock they felt.

Unfortunately that was enough time for Hammer to aim and fire at RocketLauncher and BoobyTrap. The shells penetrated their armor and both followed their leader to the floor. Airborne and Smokescreen regained their senses and Airborne quickly took to the air and aimed her wrist guns at Hammer while Smokescreen disappeared from sight.

Hammer stepped to the side so that he placed Iron Man between himself and Airborne, and the bullets she fired thudded against the captive armor. Hammer again lifted his arm and another round left the pistol he was carrying to find its unerring way to the chest of Airborne. The mercenary stiffened and then plummeted back to the ground.

Without waiting to see the results of his previous shot, Hammer turned and fired once more. To Iron Man it looked like he was aiming at a blank wall, however a scream sounded and the final mercenary crashed to the floor.

Sheathing the gun under his jacket, Hammer turned back to Iron Man and said, almost apologetically, "I am sorry that was necessary Anthony, but you did force my hand. Their deaths are all your fault."

Tony Stark just stared out through his helmet unable to find the words to express everything he had seen. Hammer had single handedly killed the Death Squad and only taken five bullets to do so. What was going on? The smile that was once again on his face was almost more repulsive to Tony that the actions he had just committed.

"Why?"

Justin Hammer simply stood looking down at the captive Iron Man and smiled.

For the third time, Jocasta called Iron Man and once again received no reply.

While monitoring the news feeds she had gotten reports on a battle involving Iron Man and some unknown group of armored foes. The reports had been sparse on information, as the incident had only been seen by eyewitnesses. When the news crews had arrived in the area the only evidence remaining were bullet holes and scorch marks.

Since then, Jocasta had been trying to contact her friend, Tony Stark, with no success.

Tony had left no instructions for this sort of problem and Jocasta worked through the options she had. Coming to a decision she dialed a number stored in the systems databank and waited for the call to be picked up.

"This is Carol Danvers. I'm sorry, but I can't get the phone right now. Leave a message and I'll call you back."

"Carol this is Jocasta. When you get this message please call the house. We have a potential situation here and your help might be needed."

Jocasta disconnected and began looking through the databanks for other possible sources of help.

The smell in the air was a mixture of the bitter tang of fresh blood and the smokier odor of cordite. Anger surged through Tony Stark wiping out the disgust at the actions of his long-time rival.

"Are you mad? Do you think I'm going to let you get away with this you lunatic?"

Even through the metallic nature of the voice synthesizer built into the helmet, Tony's voice contained a barely held in check fury.

"Anthony, how can you say that? After all this was all your doing. I warned you that this would happen if you didn't do as I asked. Now you are feeling guilty and trying to shift the blame to me."

Almost as an afterthought, Hammer added, "Now please take off the helmet before something else happens."

Inside the armor Tony Stark felt each of the words fall on him like hammer blows. He hadn't expected Hammer to have been able to kill the Death Squad so he hadn't taken his threat seriously. "After all I wasn't able to stop them," he thought before mentally berating himself, "and of course if you can't do it, no one can."

Tony clamped harshly down on that line of thought. It wouldn't serve him at this point and he just looked up at Hammer.

"I'm impressed Anthony. I had expected you to be thrashing around and threatening me, but instead you are trying to hold everything inside. Haven't you been told that that isn't good for you?"

Hammer paused and waited for a response from his captive audience before he sighed and continued.

"I see I'm going to have to convince you to take the helmet off. Very well, take a look at the view screen."

Hammer turned slightly and Tony looked past him at the image forming on the screen that had been partially hidden. On it a young woman, and what appeared to be her two children, including a baby, sat on a comfortable sofa obviously waiting for something.

"This mother is awaiting an interview with me. She believes that she will be receiving a grant for college, but unfortunately that will not be happening. What will happen if you don't take off the helmet is very simple. This button," he said indicating a button on the remote control device he was holding "opens gas vents into the room you are seeing."

Hammer pressed the button he had indicated then continued.

"You now have five minutes to save them, but only if you do as I have asked."

Tony watched the screen transfixed by the events unfolding around him. Inside his head he battled to find a way out of the situation but each solution came to a dead end. A small counter on the screen clicked slowly down and with three minutes remaining all of the children had passed into unconsciousness. Tony watched as the mother began to try to wake them and the realization that something was wrong passed over her face. Her lips moved in what was obviously a cry for help and then she ran towards the door to the room.

"Two minutes remaining Anthony," Justin Hammer broke in with obvious delight in his voice.

Tony looked up at him and with an effort he managed to force the words through his mouth. "Alright Justin you win. I'll take off the helmet."

Hammer stood there and looked down at Iron Man all the while the clock continued to countdown.

"Well," Tony shouted, "help them."

"Ah, but you haven't done as I asked yet Anthony, and sadly I don't trust you."

Tony Stark snarled wordlessly before he managed to gather his wits about him. Sub-vocalizing the command he caused the helmet seals to pop open with a click. When Hammer made no move to help the young family Tony screamed, "I did what you wanted, now do your part."

"I asked you to remove the helmet Anthony, but I see that its still on your head. Why should I stop the countdown?"

A smirk crawled across Justin Hammer's face as he spoke and remained standing where he was. Tony glanced at the screen and noticed that there was now less than a minute remaining.

"How can I take it off when you have my hands tied up?" he asked frantically. "It's undone you can take it off."

Hammer looked thoughtfully at Iron Man for long moments as the counter dropped steadily down to thirty seconds. With a click of the remote he was holding, the screen disappeared and then he was lifting the Iron Man helmet from Tony Stark's head.

"Anthony," he said, "what a pleasant surprise."

The look on Tony Stark's face was a mixture of hatred and rage. "Are they OK?"

Hammer looked down with a smile on his face and replied, "No, they died several hours ago. That was simply the recording."

Tony looked up incredulously, the anger and hate temporarily forgotten. "What?" he managed to get out of his frozen brain.

Hammer sighed although the small sick smile remained, "I killed them four hours ago. I got tired of waiting for you to get here."

"Why?"

"So that I could get you to take off your helmet. After you stormed into the boardroom I felt that it was time for a change. Hammer has been interesting, but the emotions that rage around you are much more satisfying."

In response to Tony's blank faced look, Hammer smiled and then began to change. Within moments, the body of Justin Hammer had sagged to the floor while another figure stood above him. The figure was humanoid in appearance and was completely pink in coloration with jet black eyes. It reminded Tony of the Vision but was much more muscular and stood at around six and half feet tall. The smile that had looked out of place on Justin Hammer graced the lips of the new figure.

Without a word the figure stepped forward and touched Tony Stark on the forehead and the process that had just occurred with Justin Hammer was repeated in reverse. Where had previously been two people, Tony Stark and the pink skinned humanoid, now only Tony Stark remained.

With a shrug, the figure snapped the chains holding it in place and stood up. Slowly, as if working out what he was doing, he began to remove the pieces of armor until Tony stood with the Iron Man armor lying around him on the floor. Then he looked down on the still dazed figure of Justin Hammer.

Deep in the recesses of his mind Tony Stark threw a question at the creature that had taken control of his body, _"What are you? What are you doing?"_

_"I'm taking care of a loose end I don't need anymore. You are as exquisite as I had hoped."_

Tony watched and railed as he saw his own hands reach down and wrap themselves around Justin Hammer's throat. Hammer tried to drag the hands away, but the strength they exhibited was incredible and with a simple squeeze they crushed his larynx and then broke his neck.

In horror Tony Stark looked down at the dead form of Justin Hammer.

Tony Stark railed, and spat and cursed within his own body. A body that was casually driving a bright red mustang convertible in the direction of his house.

_What are you planning?_ he literally screamed into his head.

_Why Tony, I going to be you of course. Which means I'm going home_

Looking out of the cars side window Tony smiled at the occupants of the car next to him and then winked broadly.

The two teenage girls looked him over and then grinned back. Even they had heard of the most eligible bachelor in Seattle. Without waiting for any further response, Tony slammed the gas pedal to the floor and his car leapt away from the surprised girls.

Inside his own mind, Tony Stark tried to calm himself. Everything that had happened in the last few hours had sickened him, but anger and frustration were not going to get him control back of his body.

_What are you?_ he asked.

_My original makers used a name, that when translated into your tongue means "Empathic Android". That has been shortened since my arrival here to Empathoid_

_What do you want with me? Or maybe I should ask why me?_

_That would simply be due to the wonderfully intense emotions that you contain. Rarely have I seen one person with such a powerful array of emotions and the willingness to display them. As such that makes you the perfect host._

Tony thought briefly about the answers he had gotten before asking, _Where are you from?_

_Another dimension_ was the simple response he got.

_So how did you get here?_

_Another of your kind happened upon my dimension and he was gracious enough to transport me back here_

_How did you end up taking over Justin Hammer?_

_It appears that his scientists pulled me from space where I had been drifting for quite some time__. After awakening me I transferred into one of them, and after learning about Justin I made sure I was invited into his presence. After that it was a simple process of taking over his body_

_So you were the one responsible for kidnapping Pepper?_ Tony stated with some heat.

The humor in the voice of the Empathoid was unmistakable as it replied, _No, I took over Hammer's body after he returned from France. He was actually quite upset about losing her_

Once more shock enveloped Tony Stark and it was the creature inhabiting his body that spoke again, _It was only when you entered the board room that morning that I discovered how much better a host you would make_

_How did you know it was me in the armor?_

_I didn't until you arrived at the Hammer Industries earlier. After the brawl at the charity dinner I had assumed that someone else was wearing your armor. Imagine my surprise and delight when I felt your presence. It certainly saved me any further planning_

There was a certain amount of childish delight infusing the words and Tony got a mental image of a three year old sitting and clapping their hands because they were so clever.

After more long moments of silence Tony asked, _What are you planning on doing now?_

Silence was the loud reply, although Tony could feel a certain sense of anticipation emanating from the Empathoid. As the car sped towards its destination Tony lapsed into silence trying to find a way to liberate himself from his current prison.

Pepper Potts sat on the bed in her room and flipped the channel on the television set she was watching. Her eyes held the almost glazed look of someone that had been doing this on autopilot for quite some time. Finally she clicked the power button and watched the small light disappear into the center of the screen.

Glancing at the clock on the bedside table she sighed loudly and wondered what she was going to do next.

"Jo?"

After a moments silence a voice replied, "Yes Pepper?"

"Any suggestions on what I can do? I'm out of ideas and the day has a long way to go yet."

"You could always use the rec room and burn off a little of the boredom," the synthesized voice of Jocasta responded.

"Not really my favorite activity, although it would be a change I guess."

"There are several cars in the garage, you could always take one of them out," Jocasta offered.

Through the visual receptors in the room, Jocasta saw the look of panic that flared on her friends face at the suggestion she had made. Quickly she added, "You could always use the computer systems in the rec room to access the 'net, or the game system."

The suggestion was enough to offer the panicked Pepper Potts an option and she accepted it gratefully like a drowning woman would a floatation vest.

"That sounds like a great idea," she voiced with a little too much excitement. As an afterthought she added, "Where's Tony?"

Jocasta noticed the trouble she had even saying Tony Stark's name and sorrow coursed through her electronic circuits.

"Tony is out and I don't expect him to return anytime soon," she assured the scared woman.

"Then lets get to playing those games," Pepper said as she stood up and headed for the door.

Moments later she was walking down the hall towards the rec room. A red mustang convertible approaching the building meanwhile had diverted Jocasta's attention. The car pulled up to a parking slot, and she was surprised to see Tony Stark exit the vehicle and walk towards the front door. Focusing she selected the main entry lobby as her current focus and watched as Tony walked up the stairs.

"Tony, where have you been?" she inquired as soon as he was in the room. "Where is the armor?"

For a brief second Tony Stark's face held a look of puzzlement. Then he replied, "I ran into a few problems Jo. I'm going to need the full suit to clean up the mess."

Without waiting for response Tony looked around the lobby and then began to walk towards one of the doors leading deeper into the building.

Jocasta watched, puzzled by the answer she had received. That quickly turned to alarm as she realized that Tony would intercept Pepper based on the current routes they were taking. She called out, "Tony. Pepper is in the hallway heading to the rec room. You need to wait a few moments so as not to panic her."

Tony stopped with a hand on the door handle, with that small look of puzzlement on his face once more. However, the smile that crept out and replaced it surprised her even more and when he opened the door against her warning she became alarmed.

"Tony what are you doing?" she asked urgently, but he didn't reply.

Sensing that something was wrong, Jocasta activated the scanning facilities built into the house systems. They were not a full array, like the labs or stealth armor contained, simply a set used by the houses security system. Jocasta scanned through the incoming data and found that the readings confirmed that it really was Tony Stark.

As the scan continued, Tony ignored the voice of Jocasta broadcasting through the hallway and stalked onwards. Inside the body, the mind of Tony Stark was almost foaming at the mouth based on what was he knew was going to happen. He ranted and raved at the Empathoid to stop, but he had no control of the body and he watched helplessly as it continued towards the vulnerable Pepper Potts.

Rounding a corner, Tony saw his friend walking down the hall away from him. His anger and hatred for the being occupying his body went incandescent as he felt his mouth open and heard Pepper's name exit it.

Down the hallway Pepper Potts stopped and without thinking turned to see who had called her name. The sight of Tony Stark stalking towards her with a nasty looking smile on his face froze her to the spot. Panic and fear bubbled out of her and erupted as a scream.

Watching the buildings security system, Jocasta saw with the horror the smile grow larger on Tony Stark's face in response. Instantly she began issuing orders, "Pepper run," she shouted with authority and was relieved when the voice was enough to get her friend to turn and flee down the corridor.

Then she added, "Tony stop where you are."

She watched as Tony Stark's face displayed anger, followed quickly by the smile reappearing. He glanced around before walking rapidly in the direction of the labs. Jocasta used the security system to lockdown the doors but then watched aghast as she saw what happened next. Tony Stark reached for the door and when it didn't open he looked up, directly at the hidden camera, grinned and then pulled the door open with a crash that ripped the lock through the wall.

Tony Stark walked down the stairway behind the door he had torn open and was about to key in the code to open another door at the bottom of the stairs when it opened of its own accord. Looking up from the keypad he saw the form of Iron Man outlined by a halo of light from the room behind him.

"I don't know who you are," the metallic voice of Iron Man grated roughly, "but you need to put your hands in the air."

Tony Stark knew what was going to happen before it even occurred because he saw it in the thoughts of the Empathoid. He strained to regain control of his body, but as with every other time he had tried, he failed.

Jocasta leveled the suits repulsors at Tony Stark but a moment's indecision cost her dearly. With lightning speed Tony Stark lashed his right arm out and grabbed the wrist of the armor. With a simple whip of his arm he sent the suit crashing into the doorframe while continuing to maintain his hold. Iron Man attempted to tear his arm free of the hold but was surprised to discover that he was unable to do so.

Within the computer system Jocasta raced to find a non-lethal way of stopping Tony Stark. As she was about to activate the wrist launcher Tony stepped in close and wrapped his other arm around the armor below the helmet. Immediately Jocasta knew she was in trouble as the pressure increased dramatically on the armored suit. She tried to activate the wrist launcher, and a single shell exploded outwards and impacted on the floor to release a cloud of gas. As she went to launch another charge she saw the warning signs light up and then the audio sensors picked up the groans of distressed metal. The feedback from the helmet being torn loose from the body of the Iron Man armor raced back through the mimetic system and slammed into the artificial consciousness of Jocasta. Fortunately, Tony Stark had designed 

failsafes into the system and some of it was distributed elsewhere or absorbed. However, sufficient got through to scramble her senses.

Tony Stark watched through the eyes of his own body in awe at the ease with which he tore the helmet off the Iron Man armor. His mind gnawed at the problem of how to get his body back and slowly an idea began to occur to him based on the things that the Empathoid had already said. He sighed deeply as he wasn't sure if he could pull off his idea. After all he was no Moondragon, but he knew he had to try. Settling himself he tried to recall all things he had been told about clearing his mind.

The Empathoid was too busy admiring its handiwork to notice what was occurring within the body it had purloined and when it stepped away from the disabled Iron Man armor and looked around the room its smile grew even larger. Striding across to one of the storage bays, he punched a combination into the keypad and when he had finished he found himself facing another newer suit of Iron Man armor.

Reaching out he caressed the sleek lines of the new suit and then with almost a sigh he turned and moved to another storage bay. There would be time to complete the new suit of armor but right now it was not fully functional. The Empathoid wanted something that would serve immediately and that was hidden behind the bay he now stood in front of.

The Empathoid was about to open the door when the distraction it had been feeling for the last few moments finally dragged its attention in another direction. The emotion it was sensing from the floor above was too delicious to ignore any further. Turning away from the storage bay, the Empathoid, clothed in Tony Stark's body exited the room and climbed back up the stairs.

Tony Stark's body strode through the halls of his home arrowing directly towards the emotions that it was sensing. Security system after security system activated based on the codes that Jocasta had entered into the system, but he simply moved past them all with ridiculous ease. The defenses merely slowed him down slightly.

Turning down another hallway he glimpsed sight of the source of the emotion he had been following. Pepper turned and saw him following and with a scream she turned and ran in the opposite direction. Tony continued to move at the same speed, confidence streaming off him with each step. The house was only so big and the main access routes were all behind him.

As he entered another hallway he sensed the emotions washing out from a locked door. Stepping up to it he knocked and said, "Come out and play."

When there was no response he grasped the handle and when it didn't turn he simply pushed and the locking mechanism burst out through the frame.

Standing in the middle of the room was a very wide-eyed Pepper Potts. In her right hand she held a small stunner of Tony Starks design which she leveled and fired. The arc of electricity leapt from the device and hit squarely on Tony Stark's chest. Momentarily the body went 

rigid and then collapsed to the floor. A small sob sounded in the room and Pepper was about to move forward and check the body when it began to change and a powerful pink colored humanoid was kneeling, then standing above Tony Stark's body.

A look of annoyance was etched on its face as it first looked down at its former host and then back up to Pepper Potts. Arrogantly it stepped towards the obviously frightened, but determined woman, who level the stunner and once more discharged it. This time the creature walked through the beam and reaching out, touched Pepper on the forehead.

Unlike when it had taken over the body of Tony Stark, the look of anticipation on its face disappeared to by replaced by one of distress. A similar look covered the face of Pepper Potts that then began to change as it appeared that her whole face began to melt away. The Empathoid attempted to remove its arm from the body it was trying to take over and discovered it couldn't. In fact it was being pulled more deeply inside.

From within the wardrobe where she was hiding, Pepper Potts watched as Jocasta's body began to fluctuate rapidly from one form to another. First it took on the form and shape of her original silver body, then changed back to resemble Pepper herself, before morphing into the pink humanoid shape and then through dozens of other shapes. In each shape the mouth formed a silent scream.

The changes slowed and then began to flicker back and forth between Jocasta and the pink humanoid. The body disappeared in bright, blinding flash and when her eyes cleared a single body lay on the floor of the room. Changes continued to fluctuate through the body and Pepper watched in both awe and panic as many her friends suddenly lay there, followed rapidly by heroes, and other things she could not even describe. Slowly, over the course of many minutes the changes began to slow and finally appeared to have stopped on the silver form of Jocasta.

After waiting long minutes more, Pepper finally crawled out of the wardrobe and slowly stepped towards the two prone figures. She reached down gingerly and touched the cool metal form of the android body of Jocasta and was relieved when it didn't jump up and attack her.

Turning once more she looked down at the body of Tony Stark. A small frown of concern creased her brow as she moved closer to him. In her mind she saw the moment that the creature had stepped out of him and the elation she had felt. Tony had been controlled when he had done those things to her. It hadn't been him. With a suddenness, the dam holding her emotions in place burst and she sank to her knees and craddled his head into her lap.

A groan made her look down and with a small smile she looked down on the slightly smiling face of her friend Tony Stark. Slowly and carefully she helped him sit up.

Holding each other close they looked at the still body of their friend Jocasta and mirrored sighs of relief were released as they saw the pale gold light emanate from her eyes.


	16. Silver Static Part 1

Iron Man

Chapter 16: Silver Static Part 1

The employees of Tony Stark, reaching back as far as the days of Stark International, always knew that things always happened when the boss was around.

This belief developed independently of any oral or written tradition amongst the employees of Stark Enterprises, Stark International, Circuits Maximus and now at Stark Solutions, where the staff could be counted on the fingers on both hands.

_Things always happened when the boss was around._

But there were times when things happened independent of the boss being on site or not. To whit:

At approximately 9:47 a.m., twenty-three and a half minutes after Tony Stark left for what he called a 'personal matter,' a red dot appeared in the overcast Seattle sky. Four minutes later, that dot could be perceived as a humanoid form. A minute after that, Tony's executive staff of Happy and Pepper Potts Hogan, joined by Tony's new office assistant Jocie Arbogast, tried to evacuate the area.

Three minutes later, the dot made planet fall. Most of the employees of Stark Solutions wouldn't recognize the armored young man with half his face blackened, a nimbus of energy playing around his hand. But the Hogans recognized him. Jocie Aborgast recognized him as well because, under her actual name of Jocasta, she had spent quite some time within the Stark Solutions mainframe, and had access to Tony's personal records spanning a number of years.

The man got to his hands and knees. With the elaborately decorated armor he wore, he resembled nothing more than a playing card come to life

Jack Hart had once acted as a Stark International 'security intern,' helping Iron Man protect Stark interests and learning to be a hero under him. During that time, his condition and costume made his code name a natural choice.

"The Jack of Hearts," Jocasta murmured.

Jack looked to Pepper. "I made it...I need to speak to Tony now. He needs to know, or they'll kill him."

_It wasn't his fault._

Tony kept saying that to himself as he drove along Willis Street in Portland, looking for the office park where one Doreen Maloney worked.

It wasn't his fault that Justin Hammer's neck had been snapped like a twig, killing Tony's longtime rival instantly...just like it wasn't his fault that three women died at the hands of Iron Man during a nightmarish time that still seemed to him like a dream. Or that, earlier in his career, the man he had been forced to kill had taken over his armor and fired its repulsors, killing a diplomat whose only sin was his childlike worship of Iron Man. Or that his overzealous crusade to destroy the armor using his designs had inadvertantly caused the death of a Russian national inside the Titanium Man armor.

But it didn't make believing it easier. Especially after each new incident made the death toll higher.

Tony slowed his Jaguar as he was coming up on the street number his friend Nick Fury had secured for him. Ever since Tony had had the conference with SHIELD concerning the murder of women whose genetic profile matched that of Whitney Frost, the organization was monitoring medical information for new targets of this mysterious killer. Doreen Maloney had turned up in the records of a medical testing lab the day before. Tony had asked for the opportunity to approach her himself; considering his long history with the original Whitney Frost-who, in turn, sometimes hid behind the nom-de-plume of Madame Masque-it was difficult not to assume these murders may be connected to him on some level. So after spending time in his personal laboratory, trying to figure out a way to stop the next potential usurper from gaining control of his armor, he head out for Portland to meet Doreen, ready to take her to a SHIELD safehouse for testing.

The building was the same anonymous glass-and-steel tower that could be found anywhere in the United States, never more than five stories and never with any flourish that marked it as the architect's own. Tony pulled up to the North entrance (these towers always having entrances reflecting the points of a compass) and consulted his notes. Doreen was a receptionist, support staff for an architectural firm. He wondered if she was aware that she was, due to either a bizarre quirk or someone's malicious manipulation, more likely than not in the crosshairs.

Tony also briefly wondered if his sudden proactive stance on these murders, his need to seek out the next likely suspect and protect her from the operative known as Masque, was a result of what the Empathoid did to him. He quietly pushed that thought away; there was plenty of time for guilt later.

Getting out of the car, he took a deep breath and went inside.

Hmmm...now _this_ was interesting, thought Whitney-for that was who she was, no matter how many of her unwanted 'sisters' seemed to be popping up all along the coast.

Behind her mask, she grinned faintly. When she had discovered the presence of these pretenders to her identity, she knew Tony would cross paths with her eventually. After all, what they had still ran deep in her heart; if she knew people as well as she claimed to, this Tony must feel something similar. It was only after the first half-dozen kills that she started to relax, that she learned not to look over her shoulder for Tony or his armored alter-ego. As 

her work appeared to slow down, she began to think that she was going to satisfy her vendetta without Tony even knowing.

And now this...his showing up in a suburban office park where her latest 'sister' worked.

Masque reached into her ammo pouch for some special bullets and reloaded. This was, in fact, going to be interesting, whether Tony Stark knew it or not.

Happy Hogan, with Donnie Gill's help, brought the Jack of Hearts to one of the laboratories in the lower level. The man had fallen unconscious in the interim. Coffee was brewed, and Mrs. Arborgast was already on the line, alternately trying to reach Mr. Stark and Ms. Danvers-whom Stark had instructed to be informed in cases of extraterrestrial incursion.

Jocasta had slipped back to her base android form. Thanks to a new body Tony Stark had designed for her, she had found that she was able to reconfigure her appearance to mimic human forms. Considering that both Pepper and Happy knew her 'secret identity,' she saw no need to keep up her masquerade as Mrs. Arborgast's niece.

Seeing the sleek silvery form carrying a tray with a small carafe of coffee, Pepper said, "I don't think Jack is capable of eating or drinking like us-I mean, well..."

Jocasta put down the tray. Pepper was still recovering from a serious traumatic experience, and had latched onto her as a friend. But she was still learning how to behave properly around an artificial lifeform. Jocasta smiled. "I understand, Ms. Potts-and Mr. Hart doesn't need to eat or drink, being a self-sufficient energy being. The coffee was for you."

Pepper laughed awkwardly and rose. "Of course. Thank you, Jocie."

Happy Hogan stood to one side, his arms crossed over his chest. He seemed slightly uncomfortable around the newest member of Stark Solutions when she was in her android form. "Where do you think he came from?"

"According to some Avengers files I was able to cross-reference," Jocasta mentioned as she moved toward Jack's sleeping form. She ran her hands along the man's body. "There were reports of Mr. Hart in outer space. I assume he came from there."  
--as seen in his own miniseries, as well as issues of THE SILVER SURFER

"Outer space?" Happy grunted. "Just what we need. I hope it ain't more of them dragons."

A small smile played on Jocasta's face. She still reveled in the expressiveness Tony's 'memory metals' afforded her. "Good. Mr. Hart is just going through a regeneration cycle. He should be conscious momentarily."

"Good," Pepper replied. "The more we know, the more we can tell Tony."

Tony stopped in the doorway of the architectural firm. He had prepared himself for this moment, had even seen some of the previous victims, duplicates of one of his greatest loves cooling on the mortician's table. But it still didn't stop his heart from skipping a beat upon seeing Doreen Maloney.

The woman was a dead ringer for Whitney Frost. From the fall of dark hair down to her shoulders to the slim body-athletic without being muscular, keeping its secrets close to her soul-to the way she walked to the filing cabinet, Doreen was the exact duplicate of his most tragic lover. Just seeing her brought him back to the two periods in his life when he shared his life with her, both before and after her disfigurement and retreat into the identity of Madame Masque. Tony took a deep breath in an attempt to focus himself in the here and now.

Doreen looked up. "Hello, may I help you?" She smiled prettily.

Tony cleared his throat and strode forward. He extended his hand. "Ms. Maloney?"

The woman took it. Her grip was firm. Her smile turned to an expression of confusion. "I'm sorry...do I...oh my, I do. You're Tony Stark, aren't you?"

Tony smiled. "Yes I am."

She flushed slightly. "I-I'm sorry for not recognizing you, Mr. Stark. If you'll wait here, I'll get one of our partners..."

"No, Ms. Maloney," Tony replied. "I'm actually...well, this is sort of awkward. I'm here to see you."

The look of confusion returned to Doreen's face. "I'm sorry. You're here to see me?"

"Let me explain," said Tony.

The gentleman's name was Satsujin, which was curious since he had no evidence of having Asian blood. He was roughly six and a half feet tall and powerfully built, with ice-blonde hair impeccably cut and groomed. His clothing, hand made by a Saville Row tailor known only to a dozen or so international movers and shakers, fit him like a second skin. The only evidence that the man was anything but Caucasian was the slight epicanthic fold around his eyes-which, to be fair, made him look more Icelandic than Asian.

In Japanese, the gentleman's name loosely translated into Murder.

The man named for murder did not sweat in the sweltering heat of the Wakandan summer. This was of increasing annoyance to his partner, whose name was the far more mundane Brian Webster. Mr. Webster was paunchy in all the wrong places and was losing his hair at an increasing rate. Unlike his companion, Mr. Webster _sweat_. His whole face glistened with it, no matter how often he mopped at his brow. Even though he wore the lightest weight suit available to him, it was spotted with perspiration stains.

Mr. Webster positively hated being here. But if Satsujin and the Indian woman who were his employers wanted him to stand in the middle of nowhere, standing before an altar of a cult disgraced by the leader of his host country, then that was what he would do. After all, the pay was good and Satsujin...

Well, Satsujin worried him.

From out of the brush beyond the stone hewn altar, a large Wakandan man in brightly colored robes emerged. In his hands was a stone jar decorated with symbols carved deep within its surface. What appeared the only opening was covered with dried mud. The man walked up to Satsujin (_Even a total stranger knows who's the top dog here,_ Webster thought ruefully), bowed and offered the jar up to him.

Satsujin took it in his oversized hands. The man rose, and said in accented English, "We have done as promised."

Satsujin turned the jar over in his hands. "It does not feel any heavier."

"It is. On that, you can trust us. It is the least that we can do for such a generous patron of our lord."

Webster mopped more sweat off his brow. B-but your lord is dead."

Satsujin's gaze shifted to Webster. The paunchy man shivered involuntarily. The African smiled, unaware of the interplay between the two men and said, "Our lord has died before. Given time, he will live again...much as your lord will."

Satsujin bowed. "Thank you. You will have my Lord's gratitude when we are done."

"That is sufficient for us, kindly ones...that, and your continued financial support."

"Come, Webster. We have other things to do," Satsujin barked. He turned on his heels and strode off into the brush. A quarter mile away, a helicopter waited to take them back to the airport.

What neither knew was that once they hit the airport, a message from Satsujin's co-chairman would be waiting. And that message would change their timetable immensely.

"I don't understand," Doreen Maloney muttered as Tony led her to his car. "Dr. Webster...has been _experimenting_ on me?"

"That's what SHIELD suspects," Tony replied. "I would have to assume that you already bore a slight resemblance to Ms. Frost. The treatments he's been giving you has just helped 'tweak' your appearance, by surreptitiously transfusing DNA plasm into your biological tissue. The head at R&D explained it all to me, but I'm an engineer, not a biologist."

Tony was keeping it simple for her, but the scenario was becoming easier to put together. He didn't want to overload Doreen's head further with information-let alone information as 

explosive as the possibility that she was, in fact, an LMD programmed to think it _was_ Doreen Maloney-but it did seem that the woman was probably located for her resemblance to Whitney. Then a switch was made, the Infinity Formula-treated LMD programmed with the woman's memories and then placed within the general populace. For all Tony knew, the women who were killed were already long dead before the killer got to them.

This woman, whether artificial or not, was their first chance to break the chain of murder that had been unwittingly following him for some time...and Tony was determined to capitalize on it.

_Curiouser and Curiouser,_ thought Whitney. The woman had left with Tony; she had seen it with her own eyes. Yet she was still getting a signal from inside the office. More importantly, she was not getting a signal from the woman claiming to be Doreen Maloney, who was presently stepping into Tony Stark's Jaguar.

The scanner she held was developed for her by Maggia scientists before she turned away from the life her father had set out for her. It was keyed to detect her own DNA, the undergarment she wore beneath her uniform masking herself from its presence. The only person it _should_ pick up were those...abominations...that were being sent out into the world by persons unknown, presumably to torture her Anthony.

Something in the back of Masque's head reminded her that her Tony was decidedly younger, but she pushed that thought away. She needed to be clear minded.

Masque broke cover and strode across the office building's gallery to the offices where Tony and Doreen had just emerged. Her heels clicked on the polish stone floor, her eyes fixated on the small watch-like device on one wrist. She retrieved her pistol from her holster, and prepared for the worst.

She ignored the junior secretary manning Doreen's desk, as well as the architect who came out to stop her from searching the place. When the beefy man, squeezed into brown stretch slacks and a creased white shirt, put a restraining hand on her, Masque backhanded him. Her fist met with his nose, breaking it cleanly. The scream that came from his lips was surprisingly high pitched.

"Mary! Call security!" called out another worker, this one in much better shape and dressed far more tastefully. Masque's attention was fixed upon a utility closet off near the bathroom. Without a word, she kicked the closet door open.

When she saw what was inside, Masque suggested, "You'd do better to call the police."

Inside the closet in a mangled heap was the real Doreen Maloney. Her glassy eyes stared off into space, her neck at an impossible angle. The well-dressed man took up a position behind her gasped and turned away. The junior secretary ran to the nearest desk and dialed 911.

There was no doubt in Masque's mind that this was the 'real' Doreen Maloney-who, like her other 'sisters,' was most likely a mockery of her. But finding her brought up another question.

"Who is the Doreen who's with Tony?" she asked to herself.

Jack Hart regained consciousness with a start. Happy Hogan was by his side, steadying him.

"Hey there, big guy," Happy told the hero. "You still look like you got dragged down all the roads in Brooklyn."

Jack's hand went to his temple. Even at rest, his wrists glowed faintly with a ruby-tinted power. "Man, are my arms tired," he mumbled. Jack shook his head and turned toward Happy. "Hey, buddy. Long time no see. Where's Tony?"

"He's outta town right now. We're trying to contact him."

Jack nodded. "Your wife still his head administrator?"

Happy adjusted his collar nervously. "Ummmm, well...we ain't married no more."

"Sorry to hear that," Jack stated. He swung his legs over the table and swayed a bit. "Man, I feel like you said I look, buddy. My fault for pushing myself through that wormhole. Probably shouldn't have, but that side trip shaved hours, maybe days off my arrival time."

Happy rubbed his neck. In all the time he was involved with Iron Man, he never quite got comfortable discussing superhuman matters. "So, ummm, Jack, mind telling me what's up?"

"I'd rather wait until Tony's here."

"We're trying our best, and we getting' hold of this gal, Ms. Danvers, that Tony consults with on, you know, alien stuff..." Happy replied, the words coming out slowly, "But, you know, me and Pepper and Jocie, we've been with Tony a long time, and you can trust us with anything you have for him."

"Jocie?"

"Ah, I see Mr. Hart is conscious," came a female voice with both a slight New England accent and an electronic burr to it. Jack turned to see a woman seemingly made out of poured silver approaching him. She extended a hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hart. My name is Jocasta, and along with the Hogans, I am one of Mr. Stark's primary aides." She turned to Happy. "Mrs. Arborgast managed to contact Ms. Danvers; she will be here momentarily."

"Thanks, Jocie."

"You're an android," Jack said, slightly stunned.

"And you are a being composed entirely of an xenographic energy source. We cannot all be perfect," Jocasta responded. Happy laughed.

"You-you do have a point there."

"Now," Jocasta said, taking a seat next to the armored hero, "what is the nature of your visit, Mr. Hart?"

Jack looked from the android to the ex-fighter. He paused and gathered his thoughts. "I'm here to warn you, basically. Earth's about to be invaded.

And the invaders," Jack added, "are looking for Tony.

"Where are you taking me?" Doreen Maloney asked, confusion in her voice. They were in Tony's Porsche. The wind whipped past them, prompting her to shout over the roar.

"I've radioed ahead. There's a mobile facility waiting for us. They'll test you, see what they did to you and what we can do to reverse your condition," Tony replied. "And don't worry; I'll be with you every step of the way."

As Tony drove to Portland, he had imagined several possible reactions to the statement he had just made. He had anticipated a level of disbelief, some denial, maybe even out and out hatred. He had taken the long drive, as opposed to flying into the city, specifically so he could work out responses to each of these reactions.

Tony Stark had not anticipated the reaction he had gotten, and as such, had no response ready.

Doreen Maloney's reaction was to sigh sadly and mutter, "I wish you could reverse this half life. I'm sorry."

Tony turned to face the woman, just in time to see her lose a degree of dimension, becoming almost two-dimensional in form. The appearance of Doreen bled away, replaced by a body made up of earthen voids and orange lines that glowed faintly where her musculature _should_ have been. A face peered out of the oddly flattened head; whoever this was, she could have been an attractive woman of African American descent with very sad eyes.

She turned to Tony and grabbed him. For such a frail looking figure, she was surprisingly strong. The woman pulled his lips to hers and kissed him. A slight electric shock passed between them.

Tony saw her body transform again, gaining depth as it reformed itself into his doppelganger. She pulled away slightly and smiled. "Oh, this is so much better...there was something so empty about that last sample..."

Tony accessed martial arts skills taught him by Captain American and pushed the woman with his face away. She seemed prepared and let the momentum of the move guide her in a flip that brought her out of the car onto the road. Tony saw her hit the road hard. The impact caused her to flicker back and forth between her true form and his, and she tumbled end over end for several feet. The Porsche had drifted into the other lane, where a lumbering SUV bore down on his. Tony grabbed hold of the wheel and brought the steering wheel hard to the left. At the last moment, the high-end sports car swerved out of the SUV's path, and Tony sped up, heading for the nearest bend in the road.

He wasn't sure what was going on; he wasn't even sure that the woman who had just stolen his face had anything to do with the mystery of who was killing the 'extra Whitneys.' But Tony knew one thing: having an imposter running around with his face could not possibly be good.

He pulled off onto the shoulder of the road and got out. Without even looking back or acknowleding the sparse traffic that sped by, Tony ran into the brush surrounding the highway.

Only when he was secure that he could not be seen from the road did he activate the device on his wrist that summoned his armor unit.

Tumbling down the hardtop at close to fifty miles an hour hurt the woman; thankfully the modifications Hydra had made to her months ago had included a degree of protective armor. She would be bruised and stiff for a few days, but she would not be critically injured.

For a second as she slowed, she switched samples to one she had gathered during her early days as a member of System Crash. During that time, when she and her compatriots had attempted to gain control of top secret government 'line eaters' that gave them access to any computer hooked up to the internet, she had sampled the acrobatic adventurer called Daredevil. Using that sample, she avoided a small, boxy sedan than was in her path, landing on her feet on the shoulder of the highway.

Her form reverted to its default as she rose. Once more, she felt the dissonance of living life in two-and-a-half dimensions, a condition that deprived her of depth and form. Then she accessed the Stark sample and became the industrialist-turned-consultant again.

She tapped the comm-link built into the bodysuit that contained her now formless body. "Kilobyte...do you read?"

"Loud and clear, Infomorph," came the response.

"Well, get yourself over here. I've obtained the sample. White Noise is on."

_Am I always going to feel like this?_ Tony wondered as he rocketed toward the spot where he last saw the woman who stole his-and Whitney's-face.

_Has it gotten to the point that every time I put on the armor, all I can think about is the death it caused?_

Thoughts that he had to change his armor again to prevent from being haunted were pushed aside. Tony consulted the armor's HUD display. The unknown assailant gave off a unique electromagnetic signal that made tracking her easy. Tony cybernetically brought the weapons systems online; who knew what sort of defenses the woman had.

The sensors beeped once in his ear as he flew close to the ground, ready to engage his foe. It was picking up a second lifeform, fast approaching. Omnidirectional mikes picked up the sound of a motorcycle speeding towards his target.

As the second form got closer, Tony gasped. He changed his flight plan, altering his course so that he would interpose himself between the newcomer and Iron Man's new playmate. Because if he was correct, the woman was in danger...and Tony was not prepared to add another death to the list of those he felt responsible for.

"I'm closing in on your signal," Kilobyte told Infomorph over their comm-link, "And I'm bringing an honor guard."

Infomorph had moved to the shoulder of the highway and watched the traffic go by. They were in the phantom hours between morning and afternoon drive time, and the cars were few and far between. She could have just waited on the macadam. But there was no point in getting run over just as all the planning her team had gotten involved in was coming to fruition. "I don't really think that's necessary."

"The Baron insisted," her partner shot back. "He's worried our playboy friend's big bad bodyguard is not far behind you...and besides, you know how much we had to promise him to let us do this job solo."

"Yeah," Infomorph said with a sigh. She scratched her upper lip; Stark's mustache tickled. In the distance, she heard the high-pitched whine of a motorcycle. "Think you can step on it? It's brutal out here."

"You only complain like that when you're in three dimensions, babe."

Before Infomorph could respond, she caught sight of another blur going in the opposite direction of the motorcycle, weaving around a retreating eighteen wheeler. This one was humanoid and reflected the light of the midday sun, its form colored a bright red and gold. Her mouth dropped open. "Oh, shoot-you better get those tin cans out here _now_, 'byte...Iron Man's fou-"

What happened next, as is the wont of such things, happened quickly.

The motorcycle roared toward Infomorph, going so fast it seemed a blue blur. The cycle reared up on one wheel and twisted sideways. The rider, a stacked woman in a black leather unitard and blue tights, her features hidden by a golden mask, aimed a gun at her as the cycle spun her way. The rider fired-

Just as Iron Man put himself in front of the bullet. The bullet _spanged_ off his chest, and the Golden Avenger turned so he flanked the rider. Golden beams shot out of his palms, causing the motorcycle to be pushed out from under its master. To the rider's credit, she had already leapt off. The new arrival tumbled through the air and landed in front of Infomorph, the gun aimed squarely at the spot between her eyes.

"You're going to tell me what you know or I'll kill you," she said in a voice that chilled the System Crash member to the very core.

"Masque!" Iron Man called out. He landed behind Infomorph's attacker. "You have to stop this."

"She knew where to find my latest 'sister.' She _must_ know why they're doing this...why they're making me...eliminate them." Never once did her attention waver from Infomorph.

"Iron Man, I'm glad you're here...dispose-"

"**Shut Up!**" The woman Iron Man identified as Masque hissed through gritted teeth. "I know Anthony Stark, and I know you're not him. With your EMF, you have to be projecting a holographic reconstruction of him."

"Wow," Infomorph blurted out, "You're good."

Behind Iron Man, the sparse traffic that passed by slowed as it reached them. The Armored Avenger's statements sped up and gained a degree of urgency. "We don't know that she's behind all the Infinity Formula clones, Masque. She must have stolen Mr. Stark's identity for a reason. Let's take her in, figure out what she's planning, _then_ you and I together can get to the bottom of those other Whitneys."

The gun didn't waver. If Infomorph had not been transformed into a being of electrical impulses, wires and bytes of information, she would have been sweating. She saw what was in the other woman's eyes, and it caused her to shiver involuntarily.

Iron Man came up behind Masque and put an arm on her shoulder. "Please Whitney," she whispered, "Let's end it here."

_That's interesting,_ Informorph thought and filed away the little bit of information Iron Man had supplied about Masque's identity in her head. She looked around, making note of the rubbernecking that was occurring around them. In her head, Infomorph was already calculating how to take advantage of this. A smile flickered across her face, and she reverted to her baseline sample. "Honest, I don't know what you're talking about, Iron Man. I'm just doing a job here."

"What sort of job required you to steal the identity of my employer?"

"You'll find out soon enough!" called out a new voice above them. The three colorful beings directed their attention to the air, where a small vehicle with a striking similarity to the SHIELD aircar swooped in. The markings on its undercarriage depicted a skull-headed squid encased in a circle. The man who rode in the driver's seat wore a green and yellow outfit, the cut making him look like some form of high-tech insect.

And if the sight of a HYDRA air calvary unit piloted by a costumed criminal didn't drive home the severity of the situation, the two elaborately designed black robots flanking it did.

"Dreadnoughts," whispered Masque.

"And an increasing amount of civilians, apparently," added Iron Man, only now aware of the audience gathered around him.

"Hate to cut this short," Infomorph said with a slight hint of a laugh in her voice, "but my ride's here.


	17. Silver Static Part 2

Iron Man

Chapter 17: Silver Static Part 2

Tony, in his Iron Man armor, and the woman known only as Masque, stared up at the two black Dreadnoughts bearing down on them. Both of them had familiarity with these engines of destruction. Having to engage them on a highway in Portland, Oregon surrounded by rubbernecking cars was a potential nightmare.

Masque took aim and fired a round that exploded against the nearest robot's chest. "They're supposed to be silver."

"Everybody, evacuate the area!" Tony called out. He raised his gauntlets and cybernetically switched the weapon system setting for pulse bolt. "Silver's for Maggia. Black's for HYDRA," he commented to Masque and fired. The blast hit its target, pushing the Dreadnought further back.

"First I heard that rule," Masque muttered, diving away from the volley of miniature shells her robot had fired. The blacktop was torn up by a line of small, compact explosions. Passangers in the nearby cars were pelted with glass as their windows imploded.

On the shoulder, the woman both Iron Man and Masque was confronting before the arrival of the robots was running to meet a hovering HYDRA air transport. Infomorph had once again taken on the appearance of Iron Man's secret identity of Tony Stark, an identity 'sample' she had stolen for reasons Tony had not been able to discern.  
Tony took to the air. "Masque! Get the woman. I'll draw the Dreadnoughts away from the civilians!"

Not even checking to see if his words were heeded, Tony took to the air to face the two robots. A barrage of low level repulsors drew their attentions. Dreadnoughts were notorious for having very little long term memory, tending to chase after the last person who swatted them. Their lifeless steel-bearing eyes looked skyward as Tony rose higher and higher into the air, then gave chase.

"You cannot escape us," warned one of the Dreadnoughts in a tinny voice. The two robots shifted its flight path and came after the Golden Avenger. Their arms extended and two streams of super-heated plasma shot out, slamming his back.

_Forgot how much that overtaxes my cooling apparatus,_ Tony thought as the Dreadnought's heat blast connected. The plasma the robots utilized reached a temperature of 9500 degrees centigrade—something they would never fail to remind anyone they were attacking. Tony already felt the steaminess of the temperature in the armor rising.

But Tony knew that was the key to defeating them. The Dreadnoughts were sophisticated weaponry, but they were just that: weaponry. Their free will was limited, and their strategic initiative even more so. Tony could easily outwit them given time.

One Dreadnought broke away from its brother. Its bootjets fired, and the creature closed distance. Tony kept his eye on the HUD, monitoring the suit's internal temperature and reconfiguring the weapons systems for the desired piece of ordnance. Utilizing the chin 

toggle, he accessed the Avengers database and cross-referenced the design of the monstrosity coming up behind him with the schematics of the last known Dreadnought upgrade. An overlay of plans and blueprints ran past Tony's eyes at a frightening rate.

With a grin, Tony said, "Gotcha."

He turned and fired. A pellet the size of a cold capsule hit the midriff of the closest Dreadnought. a thick sheath of ice grew around the monster's chest and thighs.

"You are a fool," the Dreadnought said as it continued to close in on Tony. "The internal heat of my mechanisms will soon melt this ice.

Tony pulled the Iron Man armor into a power dive and hit the robot in the stomach full on. The mechanical marauder shattered into two and tumbled to the hardtop. _Yes, but not before I take advantage of your armor's sudden brittleness to break you in half._

_Dreadnoughts. Powerful as all get out, but as stupid as they come._ Tony thought, strafing the remaining Dreadnought with a barrage of repulsors. The robot turned its attention to him and fired off a series of thorn-shaped mini-missiles. Consulting the HUD once more, Tony switched to the automatic targeting computer. Within a second, his repulsors were locked on the four diminutive explosive charges. He snap shot off a barrage that intercepted the missiles, destroying them.

"Come and get me, R2," Tony snapped and flew North, his HUD accessing his IPS software.

Masque took off after Infomorph, the creature who now wore Tony Stark's face. The Hydra air transport had made landfall, and the driver in the green and yellow had opened up the bay door.

"Hurry, 'morph! The witch is right on your tail!"

Infomorph's body shimmered, and she was suddenly Captain America. Her strides became more powerful. The woman increased her lead on Masque. The man in green got out, a long silver staff in his hands. "I'm trying the best I can."

"Duck!"

Before Masque could react, The man pointed the staff at her. There was a discharge, and the woman found herself thrown back onto the macadam, unable to breathe. She felt panic rise up in her as she struggled to reassert control over her body. She could hear the cycling whine of air car as it prepared for take-off, the slamming of the door.

_Calm, Whitney,_ she thought. _The guy in green shocked you with an electric bolt….calm_

Slowly, she felt herself breathe again. Masque awkwardly rolled on her side and saw the air car rising into the air. She scrabbled with fingers still numb from the electric shock for the grapple. It felt like everything was slowing down around her, and a constant buzzing in her 

head made it hard to think. Thinking more of the task at hand than the condition of her own body, she forced herself into a crouch and loaded a grapple wire into her launcher. Just as the car was leaving, she fired.

The 'stretched time' sensation she was feeling was still in effect as she watched the grapple line twirl and twist in slow motion before the small metallic claw wrapped itself around one of the vehicle's nacelles. She watched the line play out its lead and gritted her teeth in preparation for the initial yank as she was pulled into the air.

That woman was going down, Whitney had decided, one way or the other.

"So what's the plan?" Infomorph asked her teammate. She was still 'sampling' Tony Stark.

Kilobyte tapped in coordinates. "Well, after we check in with the Baron, we interface with Bitmap and Steel Collar. Provided the robot and the dwarf hold up their end of the deal, you slip in and upload the Silver Static protocol into the Satellite array—"

The air cavalry unit lurched suddenly to one side, then righted itself. Kilobyte turned to his partner. "What the…?"

"Good God," Informorph gasped. "'Byte…it's the Masque broad. She's hitching a ride!"

Kilobyte looked over his shoulder. The air car continued to climb higher and higher into the clouds. The air became chilled. "For the love of….take the controls."

"We can't let them screw this up….the Baron will—"

"**Take the controls!**"

Infomorph did as requested. Kilobyte picked up his staff and stepped to the rear of the vehicle. He saw the woman in the golden mask, the one who had her gun barrel to Infomorph's head. She was trailing along on a thin cord, shimmying up it. Increasing the amperage of the staff to the maximum, he brought it down hard on the point where the cord met the grapple. There was a tremendous flash of light accompanied by the burning of nylon.

He watched her fall away before turning to his partner. "No longer a problem, hon….now let's get cracking."

Tony flew higher and higher, drawing the remaining Dreadnought further away from the populated area and out over the Columbia River. He activated his long range sensors, the computerized controls looking for something that he could use against the diabolic Hydra robot. The monstrosity continued to pursue him, firing plasma bursts at regular intervals. Tony wove around the attacks, but the misses were so close he was beginning to feel the heat 

build up inside his armor. He kept anxious watch on the HUD, praying as cooling monitors inched closer and closer into the red.

As he hit a bend in the river he saw a tugboat. A quick scan of the internal temperature confirmed that the engine, vented by a single smokestack, could do the trick.

He flew over the tug and called out, "I have an emergency situation…please abandon ship…all damages will be recompensed by Tony Stark."

A man in a long black peacoat looked up at Iron Man. "What are you yammering about?"

A barrage of plasma bolts burned holes in the deck beneath the man's feet. He jumped back. "That's what I'm talking about!" Tony called out.

"Abandon ship!" the man in the peacoat called out and dove into the river. Two other men followed. Tony remained in position over the smokestack, rising slowly in the air. His trajectory was stopped by another blast of super-heated plasma.

Warning! Overheating eminent… flashed the HUD.

Tony backed away slightly. "Please…don't…" he pleaded, all the while waiting for the right moment.

"This unit has been charged with your termination, Iron Man. There can be no mercy expected." It flew closer to Tony, hands extended to blast Tony again with its plasma stream. The Dreadnought passed over the smokestack—

and Tony flew up and over, twisting in the air to hit him with a tightbeam repulsor blast. Tony toggled the repulsors to full power, teeth gritted. The environmental monitor inside the suit began flashing red, and Tony wasn't surprised; he was sweating profusely.

The blast hit the Dreadnought in the square of the back, the combination of the intensity and the tightness of the repulsor beam serving to drive the robot down into the smokestack and into the tugboat's coal oven.

Tony flew upwards as fast as he could, the warning claxons buzzing in his head. Tony imagined that the robot was about to state that it was not sufficiently hot enough for his internal protocols to overheat…

But it was hot enough to ignite the explosives within its mini-missle array.

The explosion, when it happened, was spectacular. Tony was caught in the blowback and found himself tumbling end over end before his gyros could right him. The second he was steadied, debris from the explosion—including some familiar robot parts—raining down around him, he changed directions and dove downward--

Cooling System has reached overload. System overheating in five…four…

--and into the waters of the Columbia. The claxons slowed, then ceased as he swam through the cooling waters of the river.

_It always ends up being too close,_ Tony thought to himself as he emerged from the water and headed back towards the highway where he left Masque and the criminals responsible for bringing Dreadnoughts into his life again.

This was not how Whitney had imagined herself going.

She had imagined herself going in combat, yes…her life had become so much about conflict ever since she learned her father was Luchino Nefaria that it was impossible for her to imagine herself dying quietly. But she had fantasized that when she died, it would be with Tony at her side, with her redeemed somehow in his eyes, their deaths coming together as they tried to protect each other…

_Your Tony's dead, Whitney,_ she reminded herself as she tumbled to the Earth. _Killed by the one…._

_The one you were trying to protect._

She tumbled in freefall, the ground coming up fast to meet her. There was no solution to this problem for Whitney. She didn't have a device to save her this time. In a few more seconds, there would just be an impact, then nothing. She wondered why her life wasn't flashing before her eyes.

"Go limp!"

Whitney looked around. There was Iron Man barreling through the air, bootjets flaring. She did as she was told, loosing the tension in her body against her better judgement—and was scooped up in the armored avenger's arms."

"I was preparing to meet my maker," she shouted over the rushing wind.

"I've got too many questions for you to allow that to happen!" Tony shouted back. He banked left and headed toward the highway.

"Where are we going?"

"Back to my Porsche, Whitney," Tony replied. "Then you and I are going back to Washington to find out what's so important to our playmates at Hydra that they needed to sic some Dreadnoughts on us."

"Sorry I couldn't come earlier, Mrs. Arborgast, Happy," Carol Danvers told Tony's staff as she shucked off her coat. "I've been busy, and I can't stay for long. "

"I'm just glad you can tear yourself away, Carol," Happy replied, extending his hand. "Tony always told us to call you if we got something of an alien problem, and boy do we got one now…or soon…or something. Mr. Hart wasn't too clear on that."

"Mr. Hart?" Carol asked as she handed her coat to Mrs. Arborgast. Tony's executive assistant placed the garment in the closet.

"Yeah…he's waiting in Tony's workshop. Mrs. A, if you—"

"I'm trying the car phone every two minutes, Mr. Hogan. I _have_ some experience watching after Mr. Stark, after all," Bambi Arborgast shot back without missing a beat.

"Sorry, Mrs. A. Just keep trying."

Carol looked from Happy to Mrs. Arborgast and back as she was herded into the elevator leading to the workshop. "Is Tony okay?"

"He's away on 'personal business,' Happy told her as he punched in the floor numbers. "But I don't mind telling you there's something fishy about this business."

Carole waited until the elevator had started going down. "Iron Man kind of fishy?"

"I don't know." As they made their way to the others, Happy filled her in on Tony's recent visits from a Seattle police detective and his frequent discussions with Nick Fury. "On top of that, the boss asked Jocasta to pull all his files on Whitney Frost."

"Old flame?"

"You could say that," Happy said with a grimance. "She's—she was a Maggia Princess. Ended up as a super-villain, tried to punch Tony's ticket something like, oh, a dozen times."

"Don't sound good."

"No it don't."

The elevator doors opened with a _whoosh_, and Happy led the former military officer turned super-hero turned intergalactic freebooter turned writer to the table where Jocasta, Pepper and The Jack of Hearts sat. "Carol Danvers, this is Jack Hart. He's from, ummmm, way outta town."

Jack got up and offered his hand. "You're Tony's xenoculture expert?"

Carol shrugged. "If you put it that way, I don't know what to say. What's the situation."

"Invasion, apparently," Jocasta offered. Carol smiled and hugged the android.

"Hey, girl! Great to see you up and about again!"

Jocasta seemed to giggle nervously. "Nice to see you too, Ms. Danvers."

Carol once again focused her attention on the curiously scarred-and-armored Jack. "So what's the situation."

Jack sighed. "It's complicated, that's for sure. I don't know whether to start with The Stark, or the Uncreated."

The look on Carol's face as Jack uttered the last name startled everyone.

The cell phone was ringing as Iron Man and Masque landed by the car. Tony tapped open the modular extension in his armor, checked the call waiting, and said, "What can I do for you, Mrs. A?"

"I'd say 'stop having such weird friends,' but you wouldn't listen to me," the secretary replied in a deadpan manner. "We've got visitors. Mrs. Danvers just arrived and a Mr. Hart dropped in earlier talking about impending visitors."

Tony walked into the woods, Masque following behind, until he was assured that he had sufficient cover from the highway. "Mr. Hart?"

"A gentleman who looks like a playing card, has the habit of having his wrists glow?"

Tony chuckled. "Oh, Jack….he was a little before your time, Mrs. A."

"Mr. Hart was insistent on seeing you, Mr. Stark," Mrs. Argorgast continued.

"Well, unfortunately, I've still got some loose ends to tie up. I'll be back as soon as I can, and when I do, Jack and I will talk. Please let Pepper know I will be heading off to Officer Plexico's office from here—and have Jocasta alert anyone we've done work for in the past year or so, warning them that anyone who shows up claiming to be me until further notice _isn't_ me."

If Tony's long-time secretary was surprised or shocked, her tone of voice on the phone did not betray the fact. "Of course, Mr. Stark…face stealing secret agents again?"

"I..I don't know what yet, but I want it stopped before it gets out of hand." Tony stopped in a clearing that seemed surrounded by enough vegetation that his transformation would be unobserved. "Oh, and please contact Vince Martinelli at Stark-Fujikawa's New York branch. See if they still have the Zero-Fuel Neutralization Unit I devised in storage. If they do, see if we can negotiate to get it shipped here ASAP."

"I'll get right on it, Mr. Stark."

"Thank you, Mrs. A. You're a wonder." When the line disconnected, Tony cybernetically reverted the armor to its module form. Masque stood off to the side and watched the transformation. When Tony was back in his civilian clothes, she asked, "You're going to the police?"

Tony smoothed out his suit as best as he could. "_We're_ going to the police. Officer Plexico asked me to help him solve the murders of these Whitney lookalikes, and I intend to do so."

The woman's hand wavered to her pistol. "If you think you're taking me in for murder…"

Tony headed started heading back to the car. "Nothing of the sort. For one thing, what you've been doing may not be murder…."

"You guys lost me," Happy Hogan admitted.

"You've heard of these races?" Jack asked.

"The former rather than the later," Carol admitted. "When I served with the Starjammers, we witnessed the after-effects of an Uncreated invasion. It wasn't pretty."

"You still lost me."

Carol turned to Happy. "The Uncreated are an alien race that originated in the outer reaches of Shi'ar space. The legend goes that they were creations of a higher race who got a mite upset that they were considered lesser beings. So they located the higher race—their 'God'—and destroyed it. The experience turned them into missionaries of the worst sort, traveling from planet to planet and exhorting other species to turn on their gods. Those species that agree to do so are converted. Those that don't are slaughtered. "  
"So these Uncreated are atheist zealots," Jocasta commented. "And I've seen references to The Stark in recent additions to The Avengers database. They're a race who worship Tony and his works as a God."

Jack nodded. "The Uncreated visited the Stark. The Stark decided the Uncreated were right, so they've decided to come to Earth to do the deed. The aggravating thing is that's only part of the worst of it."

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Pepper said. She shivered involuntarily, the effects of what the Tony from another timeline did to her only just barely healing at this point. "A whole race with Stark technology egged on by godless monsters."

"How could it get worse?" Carol asked.

Jack met the blonde woman's gaze. "The Stark didn't know where to find Earth. They're sort of a good long ways away. So they found a guide, who agreed to lead the Stark to Tony in exchange for salvage rights on our planet."

"Who?

Jack cleared his throat. "Ummm…Nebula."

"Oh, s#&," Carol muttered, rubbing her temples.

"You still lost me," Happy said once more.

"What do you mean you don't think it's murder?"

Tony sped along the highway. They were making good time so far, although he was wishing it wouldn't take so long. Every minute he delayed, the strange woman who stole his appearance would have the opportunity to…

Well he didn't know what exactly. But Tony was sure that whatever it was, it had to seriously wrong if Hydra was involved.

"Some time ago, Detective Plexico approached me with some cell samples from some of your victims. The cells had some anomalies that reminded me of the SHIELD Life Model Decoys. I'm suspecting that what you're killing off are either LMDs that, for some reason have gone rogue, or humans treated with LMD gene plasm that altered their appearances to resemble yours. So you're not a murderer in one case, and may not be in the other—we have yet to intercept a living Whitney to determine, if they were treated with LMD gene plasm, if they were still technically alive when you destroyed them."

Masque shifted in her chair. "It sounds as if you're stretching definitions in a desire to exonerate me."

Tony chose not to answer.

The golden-masked woman stared at Tony for a long time. As he headed towards the exit that would bring them to an interstate that would carry them to Seattle, she asked, "Why did you trust me back there."

"Trust you? How so?"

"You armored down in front of me, let me see you as Stark. Why?"

Tony thought long and hard before answering. "Because, no matter what the fine print, I'm sure you're Whitney Frost--_the_ Whitney Frost, the one I cared for very much. And I trusted that Whitney Frost with my secrets, and my life."

It was Whitney's turn to be quiet for a protracted period of time. Behind her mask, her eyes seemed to soften. "I will try to be worthy of that trust, Tony."

"So let me get this straight. We got one group of aliens that worship Tony as a god, egged on by another group of aliens that don't believe in god and led by a space pirate that gave the Avengers a hard time. And they've all decided the best thing to do is to grease stain Tony?" Happy asked.

"And most likely all his works," Carol added.

"I've run into Nebula before, Happy," Jack added. "She is _not_ the type of person to mess around with niceties."

"Do you have an idea of ETA?" Carol asked. In her mind, she was already going through potential strategies and defenses. She had seen what the Uncreated and Nebula had done seperately; the idea of the two of them being responsible for an invasion of Earth made her shiver.

"None. I left them on the edge of Shi'ar space, but I managed to wormhole across a few lightyears to save time," Jack replied truthfully.

"Man, this sounds awful," Happy added.

Carol looked at the people gathered. "Look, I do have to get going—but I'm glad you called me in. Jack, you and I will hook up soon; we have similar knowledge of the spaceways, so we might be able to estimate planetfall. Jo can help coordinate things, alert the Avengers and the likesuch when the time comes. I'll try to get some communications open with Shi'ar space, maybe through the X-Men. If we could have some help from the Imperial Guard…"

"Of course," Jocasta said with a nod.

"And Tony will need to be aware of this as soon as possible," Carol continued.

"Why I came to him," Jack pointed out. Carol scrawled something on her business card and handed it to him.

"My Avengers access number is on the back, Jack. If something develops, let me know."

"I will."

Carol turned to Happy and Pepper. "We'll be in touch. Count on it."

"I'm sure Tony appreciates your help," Pepper offered.

While Happy saw Carol out, Pepper looked to Jocasta and Jack. "This is pretty amazing."

"You don't know half of it, Ms. Potts…if we're not ready, Seattle could be cratered within a day."

"Maybe we should let Tony know he's a target," Jocasta suggested.

Kilobyte stood before the viewscreen. On the other end of the transmission was the employer of System Crash, a large, powerfully built man named Wolfgang von Strucker. The man had the bearing of royalty, and looked like he held the whole world in contempt. The room was quiet save for the far away echoes of the tour groups walking through the areas of Old Town that were open to the public.

If the tours were allowed to stroll away from the areas determined 'safe' by those who opened the parts of city that survived the Great Seattle Fire, they would have discovered that portions of the old wooden buildings had been converted into a high-tech stronghold, steel plates flush against the clapboard to insulate and protect the sort of equipment that would make a Microsoft representative drool. It was here that HYDRA set up their lackies, System Crash, and charged them with research and development into tools for spreading anarchy.

"We are just about to implement the White Noise Protocol, sir. Once Bitmap and Steel Collar return from tapping into the switchboxes and setting up the base transmitters, we will be on go-status," the leader of the techno-terrorist commune announced to his boss.

"I am still unsure that this will work," Von Strucker commented in a voice that dripped with derision.

"That's why we're testing it sir. Project White Noise should succeed in creating what we call the Silver Static Effect, and electronic vibratory counter signal that cycles at hyperspeed, effectively breaking up all forms of radio and other electronic based transmissions while moving too fast to be jammed by outside forces. Nothing will be able to be communicated through normal technological methods as long as the Silver Static Effect is live. Seattle will be effectively cut off from the world for as long as it takes for Hydra to raid its technological secrets."

The Baron leaned back in his chair. "For your sakes, I hope you are heading this operation as if your life depends on it….for it does."

Kilobyte bit back an answer. "Of course, sir."

The other end of the transmission blinked out. Kilobyte turned his attention to his ally, Technospike. "Is the program ready for uploading?"

The brown-haired man's fingers stopped dancing over the keyboard terminal. "And how, bossman. Once 'morph uploads it into the AlcheTech satellite array, it'll spread to any other satellite that's keyed into the communications grid and _voila_…any kind of interaction requiring a tramsmitter and receiver is shut down cold."

"I wish you could shut down my sense o' smell cold," came a hoarse voice from the doorway of the long-abandoned general store. In walked a twisted dwarf in a khaki and red costume with a sickly grin on his face. This was Bitmap, whose ability to create corrosive 'infowebs' aided in obtaining certain components for The White Noise Project. "I don't care how long you been down in the sewer—that s&# _stinks._"

Following the dwarf was a metallic monstrosity that threw his partner in shadows. This was Steel Collar, the second person to utilize that name—if person it could be called. So much had been replaced in transforming an outlaw hacker into a megalith of destruction that its teammates constantly questioned its humanity. "I didn't smell anything," it said through an electronic burr.

"You wouldn't, robot," shot back Bitmap.

"I'm **not** a robot."

"That's enough, both of you!" Kilobyte snapped. "Are the last of the scrambler taps in place?"

"You know it, boss," Bitmap said, rubbing his neck. "Once that signal goes off, those things'll start humming like nobody's business and _wham_, cable and telephone lines are gone for as long as we want it."

"Seattle'll be a dead spot on the comsat footprint, except for anyone carrying our tightbeamed telecom units."

Kilobyte smiled. "You guys better prep to rendezvous with the Hydra platoons. There'll be one for each of you. Remember the lists of what the Baron wants. They're in order of urgency."

"Don't worry it none, 'byte," Technospike said as he turned away from the terminal and handed a floppy disk to Infomorph. "We got it in hand."

"I hope so," the leader of Systems Crash said. "Ready, 'morph?"

The two-dimensional member of the techno-terrorists once more sampled Tony stark. "As I'll ever be. See you at the after-wrap party."

Seattle was just up ahead, a few exits away. Tony and his passenger were relatively quiet during the drive. He was very aware of having her in the car, especially during a brief phone call to Detective Plexico announcing his impending arrival.

The car phone rang. Tony checked the caller ID and picked up. "Hello, Pepper. What's up?"

"Hello, Tony. We got finished a short time ago with our meeting with Carol."

"Good. I trust you'll be able to let me in on what's going on after I'm done with Detective Plexico?"

"Well, that's just it. After we heard what the Jack of Hearts had to say—and got confirmation from Carol that what he was saying is true—we think you should come back here. Your life's in danger."

Tony had to chuckle. "That's something new. What is it this time? Little green men."

"Well, according to Jack and Carol, they're not so litt…."

_hssssssssssssssssssssssssssss _

Elsewhere in Tony's house, Jocasta was running down the list of former clients of Stark Solutions, conveying the message Tony had asked her to deliver. It was going well for the most part until she reached AlcheTech, a firm for which Tony had designed new circuitry for their communications satellites.

"Mr. Stark suspects there may be a situation involving an impersonator wrecking his equipment," Jocasta explained to AlcheTech's COO. "If he shows up there without calling first, restrain the person claiming to be Mr. Stark and notify us immediately."

"But—we let Mr. Stark on the grounds fifteen minutes ago."

Jocasta's voice grew a sense of urgency. "Mr. Jayson, find that man. I'll send Iron Man immedia…"

_hssssssssssssssssssssssssssss_

And with the surreptitious sliding in of a floppy disc into a drive and the tapping of a series of commands, Seattle went silent….

And then the screaming started.


	18. Silver Static Part 3

Iron Man

Chapter 18: Silver Static Part 3

**Then...**

Tony tapped the cellphone again. With Masque watching, he pressed the channel button, hoping to find a dial tone.

Nothing.

His reaction, in light of his past experience, was understandable. "Not another anti-tech shield...if it turns out the Mandarin is back, I'll-"

**--The Mandarin was killed during the 'Mandarin Lies' mega-crossover.**

"What's going on, Tony?" Masque asked him.

Tony closed the cellphone and slipped it into his back pocket. "The phone lines went dead mid-conversation with Pepper. I tried contacting Detective Plexico, then a friend of mine...it seems like everything's down. I can't help thinking this is another anti-tech field, similar to the one my old foe the Mandarin used against me twice."

"Do you think the woman who stole your face is connected to this?" Masque asked.

"Right now I'm not sure what to think." He pulled the Porsche onto the side of the road and got out. "Look, I'm going to change into something less comfortable. Wait until I get back, and follow after me at a safe distance. No need for both of us to get stranded."

"Anything else I can do?"

Tony thought for a moment. "Yeah." He reeled off a phone number. "Call Hank Pym and tell them we need Avengers back-up. Tell them not to land until I contact them."

Masque nodded. "I will."

Tony turned away, preparing to go into the brush when Masque's hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned, and was met with the chill, unyielding lips of her mask pressed against his.

"For luck," she said as she pulled away and started dialing.

**Now...**

The heat inside the subway car is slowly growing unbearable. Add to it being in darkness and hearing nothing in the way of announcements from the engineer, and some passengers wonder if they're inside their tomb.

A short time back, every radio walkman went dead at exactly the same moment save for that horrible message from the weirdoes responsible-what did they call themselves...Hydra? After 

that message stopped, the handful of passengers were left with nothing but the sounds of their own breathing. At first, the car was alive with conversation...but soon enough the heat made it difficult to think, and now the passengers sit in fear, slipping in and out of consciousness.

The sound of the one door being forced open sounds like a thunderclap. Those still conscious enough look up in the direction of the noise to see a blue furred figure forcing the front car door open, a small respirator over his animalistic face.

"Oh, My Stars and Garters! I think I busted a nail," Hank McCoy, known to the world at large as the Beast, mumbles to himself.

Once the door was open all the way, a young man in a blue and yellow uniform slips past him. He begins distributing portable respirators to the passengers. "Good day, ma'am. My name is Justice, my friend is the Beast, and we are Avengers. We will be getting you out. If anyone needs medical assistance, please let us know right now and Dr. McCoy will assist you."

"Rest assured, ladies and gentlemen, The Avengers are on the case, and you are safe," the Beast adds.

Outside of the car itself, those men and women able to move under their own power follow a Hispanic girl who glows with an inner fire, lighting the way to the surface.

**Then...**

With Masque in the Porsche trailing behind him, Tony flew toward the Seattle outer limits. Using his own internal cell modem, he called a small company outside of Modesto, California.

"Lang Electronics."

"Scott! Anthony Stark here," Tony greeted his long-time friend. "I don't have a lot of time, but I need your help. Are you available now?"

"With all the help you've given me, Tony? You're insulting me by asking."

"Great. Still at the old office?" Tony could see the Seattle skyline beginning to rise up over the horizon.

"Yep."

"Perfect. An Avengers Quinjet will be by to-"

"An _Avengers_ Quinjet?" Scott asked incredulously. Even though Scott served as a member of the Fantastic Four for a short time, he still didn't think of himself as a hero.

"It's that serious, Scott...and I might need your skills to overcome it."

"Alright, Tony," Scott Lang said. "I'll see you when I get there."

As Tony closed the connection, the H.U.D. indicated another incoming call. The sign welcoming newcomers to Seattle was coming up fast before him. He opened up the line. "Yes?"

"The Avengers are on their way," Masque told him. Tony passed the Welcome sign.

"Good. I'll contact them shortly to make a-"

_hsssssssssssssss_

The first thing Tony noticed was that he was still flying. So it wasn't a _total_ anti-tech shield. But a quick toggling through the broadband frequencies proved that there was no form of communication operable within city limits. He turned and flew higher motioning Masque to back up.

Tony had a better idea of what was going on. And he didn't like it.

**Now...**

One of the newer innovations in aeronautics is a program that allows the control tower to 'communicate' with the autopilot of an airliner and guide it to a safe landing.

Before the Silver Static protocols, 757 Flight 131 out of LAX was being guided in by this new innovation. The navigator and co-pilot were relieved, knowing they could now tend to their co-worker, who had suffered a heart attack.

But that was before the Silver Static protocols. Now the plane is out of control, and the flight crew is preparing to die...

Until a beautiful woman dressed in black, her name ironically aviation themed, swoops under the fuselage and takes the burden of this out of control flying machine on her two shoulders. Literally.

She seems to stumble a bit in carrying this impossible weight, but a second personage, one naked save for a pair of trunks, held aloft by wings on his ankles that should not in any way support him, flies to the woman and adds his strength to hers.

It is a bumpy ride, but Flight 131 lands safely.

**Then...**

Tony strode into the main workshop, undoing his tie. "What can you tell me, Jo?"

Jocasta just looked at Tony. She was in her 'default' disguise as 'Jocie' Abrogast, niece of Tony's personal assistant. Her eyes were wide and sad, but she remained silent. Tony looked around at the others gathered in his sanctum-Pepper, Happy, and recent arrival The Jack of Hearts, a quizzical expression on his face.

"She can't talk, Tony," Pepper offered. She straightened up when Masque followed behind her.

"What do you mean?"

"Her vocal cords are electronic, Tony," Happy elaborated. "And that Silver Static thingie seems to be messing up all electronic communications equipment seems to be messing up her voice."

"That explains why Iron Man's voice modulator and P.A. system is out as well."

"Silver Static?" Masque looked to Tony. "When I was trying to board the Hydra skimmer, that woman who stole your identity was talking to the driver. Lip reading is imprecise in the best of conditions, but I recall a reference to the Silver Static protocols."

**--last issue**

"Well," Jack said, standing up. "Fifteen minutes ago, all communications went dead...Jocasta was on the phone when it happened. A minute later someone calling themselves System Crash broadcast a message claiming responsibility for the 'Tech-Silence,' and threatened to expand the 'Silver Static' effect outward in ninety minutes if we didn't give them five billion dollars."

"Jo said-well, wrote-that she recognized System Crash from the Avengers file," Pepper added.

Masque nodded. "They are very unpleasant people. They tried to broker some form of alliance with Tony and I-" The woman in the golden mask bit back the rest of what she was going to say and turned away from the gathered people.

Tony looked for a moment at his newest guest before returning his attention to the others. "Okay. I've already taken the liberty of calling in the Avengers West Coast, and an electronic specialist. Jo, did you do any analysis of how this 'Silver Static' is interfering with you?"

Jo nodded.

"Good. Write it down. You, Scott Lang, and me will put our heads together when he arrives. Jack-good to see you. Up for helping us?"

"Always, Mr. Stark," the young man replied.

"If you're in this room, it's Tony, okay? I need you and Masque to head out, give me a survey of what sort of chaos we have to deal with out there, and contact Detective Plexico at Police Plaza. Let him know Iron Man is working to stop this, and reinforcements are on the way. Then head back here."

"Gotcha," Jack replied.

"Meanwhile, Jo, you and I are going to work out a strategy to beat this System Crash before things get worse."

"How much worse can it get?" Happy asked.

**Now...**

Omnus Technologies only recently arrived in Seattle. Its specialty in cybernetics and telemetry had already netted it some prime government contracts, and even though its CEO-an improbably young man with the even more improbable name of Satsujin Moomji-was the reclusive type, it had become something of the talk of the town.

So it is not surprising that a raid on Omnus Technologies' laboratories is on the list of technological concerns to be raided by System Crash during this test of the Silver Static effect.

It is Infomorph who heads this raid on Omnus, her two-dimensional body sampling the appearance of her employer, Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker. Strucker being considered something of a god by the rank and file of Hydra, it is a popular choice, as the platoon of field agents enthusiastically flood the corridors of the facility in search of booty to bring back to their master.

The raid, however, stops dead in its track when it is confronted by a powerfully built man with hair the color of arctic ice and an Asian cast to his eyes. Even though his muscles seem to strain against the English tweed of his suit, he looks as if he was born to wear it.

The powerful man looks down at the small device he cradles in his fingers. "I am Satsujin Moomji, and you are trespassing on my property. I give you a chance to leave now."

It must seem ludicrous for a single man, even one as fit as Satsujin Moomji, to so calmly confront a fully armed crew of Hydra soldiers. Many of the Hydra agents raise their weapons, ready to blow the businessman away. But they wait for the word from their section leader before opening fire.

"Tear him apart," Infomorph says through the face of Baron Von Strucker.

The businessman presses a button on the device before the sentence is finished. A thick, clear plastic wall comes down between him and the enemy. Weapon fire bounces off the barrier. Within seconds, many of the Hydra agents feel nauseous. Infomorph starts feeling the sample she is using to keep herself anchored in our three dimensional world slips away.

"The radiation I'm flooding this corridor with was developed to interfere with technologically derived shapeshifting powers," Satsujin explains. "I put two and two together when Stark's people called us earlier and figured out that a shapeshifter was behind this crisis.

The radiation is also fatal to human beings when exposed to it for more than three minutes...unless you happen to have a specially designed barrier to protect you," the man with the first name of murder adds with a raffish smile.

Hydra retreats-and in retreating catches the eye of one Jack Hart...

The endgame is upon them, but they don't know it yet.

**Then...**

Tony looked up from the workbench where he was consulting with Jocasta and approached present team leader of the West Coast Avengers Henry Pym. Behind him trailed several other members of the elite group. "Hank, glad you could make it."

"I see why you needed us, Tony," Hank replied. "There's utter chaos out there. Justice, Firestar, Warbird and Namor are already out there trying to keep the peace."

"Just when you think you can have faith in humanity," added Tigra, who stretched languidly against a console. Next to her stood Hank McCoy, the Beast, and Walt Newall, the helmet to his Stingray armor undone.

"Is Scott Lang with you?"

"Well you called, didn't you?" called out the redheaded electronics expert as he entered the room. The man looked around and whistled low. "Nice set-up you got here-and in your basement no less?"

"Come over here, Scott," Tony said without missing a beat. "In a way, you're the most important person to what we need to do." Quickly, Tony filled in the Avengers on the Silver Static protocol, his previous encounter with System Crash, and their demands.

**--see the last two issues.**

Upon hearing the story, Tigra tilted her head. "Simple extortion? Doesn't sound like Hydra at all."

"That's what we all thought," Tony replied. "We think the extortion plot is a blind to something greater. Hank, if I get your team to help keep the peace while my people here concentrate on trying to track down System Crash and shut down this Silver Static protocol?"

Hank laughed. "The chance to be the dashing swordsman saving fair maidens from the provocation of foul fiends? Who, praytell, can resist?"

"What do you want me to do?" Scott asked. He was looking at schematic drawings Jocasta had produced.

"You have the most important job, Scott." Tony pointed to the drawings. "As far as Jocasta and I can tell, this Silver Static protocol creates a microcycled countersignal that freezes up and jams any form of communication requiring electronic transmission. This signal is so compressed that it's impossible for conventional means to locate and unjam it at any one location."

Scott nodded. "Sounds a bit over my head."

"Not quite. These System Crash people have demonstrated the capability to communicate while the Silver Static protocol is activated. To me, this means Hydra has access to an ultra-tight beam channel somewhere on this spectrum. Scott, I need you to work on isolating that tightbeam and utilizing it to 'break' the cycle."

"I don't know if I can do that."

Tony slapped Scott on the back. "I trust you, Scott...and I know what you're capable of. You can do it."

"I didn't say I wouldn't give it a try. I just said I don't know if I can do it."

Walt Newall cleared his throat. "I could give Scott a hand. With the Stingray armor's communications on the blink, I'd be better off here."

Tony smiled. "Good man. The resources I have here are at your disposal. Pepper and Happy will provide you with whatever you need." He looked up at Hank. "I'm going to contact Iron Man. If any of the Avengers locates one of System Crash, or evidence of Hydra, I need them to get hold of him."

Tigra pushed off from the console she was lounging against. "Ummm, Mr. Stark, wouldn't that be a bit hard, what with the communication grid down and all?"

Tony's smile took on a wolfish quality. "I've already worked it out."

**Now...**

The Jack of Hearts, upon noticing Infomorph's contingent retreating from Omnus' facilities, rises up into the air until he is at an altitude higher than the famous Sky Needle. He projects the magnificent power of his Zero Fuel outward, and for a split second the atmosphere above Seattle glows a light red.

That glow catches the eye of one Angelica Jones, the Avenger known as Firestar. Remembering what her present team leader told her, she peels away briefly from looters she had stuck fast in microwaved asphalt to rise into the air and release her own energy discharge, lighting up the morning sky.

And it is Angelica, burning like her namesake that Tony Stark sees out of the corner of his eye as he dodges the crackling energy lash of the System Crash member known as Technospike.

Beside him, Jocasta-her disguise shucked off in favor of her sleek silver android form, red eyes flashing--is driving back a small contingent of Hydra agents. Only two of them have weaponry drawn; the other four are busy hauling samples of a jet fuel prototype that burns hotter and longer than the fuel used commercially today. Hydra is not interested in using this fuel to fly planes, but in converting it into a weapon of terror.

"Man, I was hoping you'd show up, Tin Butt," Technospike says with a laugh in his voice as he launches another of the long tendrils of electrical energy he takes his name from. Tony, still in his Iron Man armor, ducks it by inches. He fires his repulsor rays carefully, lest a snap shot causes the fuel to combust. Technospike is able to dodge the blasts.

"You're only delaying the inevitable," Tony says. He is consciously trying to pitch his voice deeper, knowing that his armor's voice modulation system cannot work when the speakers are gone. He moves closer to Technospike, hoping to get within a distance where his electrical lashes no longer work.

Jocasta's eye beams flare, knocking the two armed Hydra agents off their feet. The android, unwilling silent, takes two strides forward and rips the two drums from the remaining agents, one in each hand. This show of strength is enough to cow the lowly Hydra soldiers into defeat.

"I mean," Technospike continues,"I'm all about frying circuitry, you know-and you're like, you know, the Holy Grail for circuit frying." He launches his cables again. Tony is able to cybernetically switch on the Absorption Grid at moment before it lands on his Unibeam plate. The thick plexiglass cracks upon the impact, exposing the high-powered lamp underneath.

As the armor works overtime to absorb and store the electrical energy Technospike is feeding into it, Tony's sensors scan the man's systems, looking for the right spot to shut the man down.

"Son, I've been dealing with one-trick ponies like you for years," Tony says through gritted teeth as the sensors display the results of the search on the HUD. "Just ask Whiplash."

"Hey, I'm not the one caught in an electric crossfire, old man," Technospike gloats.

Tony reaches out with his right arm. His fingers close one a flat ceramic piece centered just underneath Technospike's energy-burst symbol. There is the sound like a plate smashing against the floor...

And Technospike is powerless.

The System Crash member doesn't even see the punch coming that knocks him out cold.

**Then...**

Scott Lang's fingers danced over the keyboard, his gaze focused intently on the wave schematic, as Walt Newall looked on. Walt, being an oceanographer, was able to provide input garnered from his own understanding of sonar and waveforms. But at one point, Scott fell silent and kept hacking at the keys, the schemata on the right side of the screen altering into countless shapes.

Eventually, the oceanographer and long time Avengers associate cleared his throat. "Mind telling me what you're doing?"

"Popping a balloon," Lang replied simply, his voice sounding like it was coming from a dream.

"Pardon?"

"Trying to set up a counter signal would be futile," Scott explained. "The cycle Silver Static is using is just too compressed for us to isolate. Once we corner it, it's already three notches up the scale."

Walt nodded. "I can understand that."

"So what I'm trying to do is find a way to overload the circuit emitting the cycle up and down the communications grid. If I get a feedback loop going that strikes hard enough-and fast enough-it'll overwhelm the Silver static protocol and shut it down."

"Sort of like megadosing to destroy a virus."

"Sort of," Scott replied. "I just hope I can get it sorted out in time.

**Now...**

In one of the lesser neighborhoods in Seattle, a spurned lover decides to get his revenge against his intended via arson. He stays a safe distance, watching the woman's small house burn down, all of her possessions contained within. _That'll show her,_ he thinks to himself, sipping a latte that warms his insides. After all, with the phones and all the other communication methods knocked out and the city going nuts, there's no chance for the fire department to get to her in time.

But then the man detects some movement in the smoke. From behind the house rises a giant balancing a water tower on one shoulder. The giant, who is blonde and handsome and wears a grim expression, slowly pours the water from the tower out onto the house, extinguishing the fire.

Fearful, the man runs. He gets half a block before a woman with fur like a tiger takes him down.

Tony taps Jocasta on the shoulder and motions toward the reddish tinge only just now fading from the sky. The two heroes take off and notice Jack Hart hovering in the sky, glowing powerfully. Tony takes the lead, his armor's boot jets kicking in the thrusters.

He is grateful that the Silver Static effect has effectively robbed Jocasta of her voice. If it did not, the synthezoid woman will have wanted to talk. Tony does not want to admit that being so isolated inside the armor is causing him to remember his days as a drunk-and that a part of him yearns for the isolation only a bottle can bring to him. In a way, he realizes how odd it is, that his armor (at one time his wearing of it was considered an addiction as well, after all) is making these memories seem all too clear.

As they approach Jack, the young hero points out the retreating form of Infomorph. The woman with the ability, the compulsion, to take on the identity of others appears as if her disguise is sliding off her. She runs ahead of the small crew of Hydra agents, and seems particularly panicked.

Tony, his mouth uncommonly dry and constricted, peels away. His compatriots strafe the Hydra agents, scattering them like tenpins. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony can see two of the West Coasters-Firestar and Justice judging from the costumes-are approaching them, ready to provide assistance.

_Come on, lady,_ Tony says to himself, laying down repulsor fire just far enough away to goad Infomorph further along. _Show me the rat hole you bunch are hiding in so we can wipe up the floor with you quickly._

_Before I really start getting thirsty._

It **hurts**. It **hurts.** And there is nothing Infomorph can do about it.

Whatever that Satsujin creep had done to her, it's permanent. She had tried to switch samples to Daredevil or Captain America when she noticed the guy in the playing card outfit following her, but the pain was so unbearable, a white hot cluster of wires raked across every nerve ending just under her flesh, that she stopped trying. She was stuck wearing Strucker's face, a face that was only three-fifths on and hung loosely off her real face like a rope of melting cheese.

It **hurt**. It **hurt** so badly she fears she was going to pass out.

She opens up the tightbeam System Crash was using to communicate with each other. "It's all wrong, 'byte. I've got bogeys on my tail."

"And you're leading them back _here_?" comes the stunned response.

"I don't have time for this!"

"Alright, alright...I'm sending Wirehead topside. But evac as soon as you can."

Infomorph continues onward toward the nearest access point, all the while trying to focus beyond the **hurt**...the **hurt**...it is so great, Infomorph is worried she is going to black out.

A small trilling goes off in one of the devices Scott Lang has set up. Turning away from the wave form models, he triumphantly proclaims,"gotcha," and slams down his hand on what seems to be an oversized button.

"What's that about?" Walt Newall asks.

Scott grins madly. "A little something to detect and isolate the tightbeam communication frequency System Crash is using. And once that frequency is isolated, I can broadcast on it as well..."

Scott looks up at his ally. "As can Iron Man."

Tony swoops down closer to the retreating Infomorph when the insides of his armor seems to come alive with Scott Lang's voice. It so startles Tony that it throws his aim off, causing two of his repulsor blasts to go wild.

"...read me, Iron Man?"

"Loud and clear, Mr. Lang." Firestar and Justice come up besides him, adding to the formation he and the Jack of Hearts were already developing until supers ringed Infomorph.

"Calibrate your communication system to this frequency and it will work," Scott tells him. "I'm going to share with the others."

"Got you, Sco-"

A barrage of glowing reddish bullets _spang_ across Tony's chest, driving him back. He follows the trail with his eyes to see that these are virtual bullets fired by a virtual chain gun held by the gray-and-silver garbed Wirehead. The man stands before a roped off underground accessway. Beyond him, Tony can see Infomorph slipping into the darkness. Even though the bullets are virtual, they hurt like the real thing.

"Take bazooka! Take bazooka!" Wirehead screams as Tony barrels down upon the man. The chaingun disappears into thin air, and the terrorist seems to snatch the named ordnance out of nowhere.

Jocasta lands next to the man as he fires the bazooka. Tony dodges the shell easily, which is then shattered off of Justice's telekinetic screen. The silver android clears her throat and says,"I've been dying to say this for hours..."

Her punch sends Wirehead sprawling to the floor. "Get out of our city," Jocasta tells him.

Wirehead starts reaching for a spot in the air, crying,"Take Warhammer!"

A giant hammer appears in his hands. He swings it in a wide arc and connects with Jocasta's leg with enough force to knock her down. He gets to his feet and stands over her, the hammer raised high.

It is Tony who, after reading the electronics contained within Wirehead's suit, severs the feed line that allows Jocasta's opponent to immerse himself so completely in the MUD. Wirehead screams as the hammer shimmers and is gone. Jocasta's eyes glimmer red, temporarily blinding the young man, and a simple tap to the head with Tony's power knocks him out.

**--Multi-User Dungeon**

Inside Tony's armor, the radio comes alive. "Tony," says Hank Pym,"You there?"

"In more ways than one, Giant-Man," Tony replies. "Come join the party."

Infomorph (it**hurts**it**hurts**ohgodit**HURTS!**) stumbles into the command center of System Crash's operation, the partial sample of Baron Von Strucker still hanging off her two dimensional body. Kilobyte goes to her side and strokes her face.

"My god, what did they do to you?" he asks.

Bitmap laughs, his misshapen legs dangling off the edge of the planning table. "Let's try Seattle, Baron. We only have to worry about Iron Man there, Baron. He's only as good as his suit, Baron."

"Shut up, dwarf," Kilobyte hisses through gritted teeth.

Bitmap hops off the table. Infomorph's face is contorted as if she is crying, but only static like television snow leaks out onto her face. "We have to get out," she tells her team leader. "Iron Man has himself help-a small army of supers."

"Where are you going, Bitmap?"

The dwarven member of System Crash turns. "The babe is right. We gotta get outta here _now_"

Kilobyte shakes his head. "Not without Technospike, Collar and Wirehead."

There is a sound like marble being sundered by a heavy steel chisel. The near wall collapses inward to make way for the massive bulk of Steel Collar. The three System Crash members stare agog, every speaker on the complex goes on. The deep bass touched with an electronic burr is unmistakable.

"Attention System Crash. We've cracked your jamming signal. We've stopped many of your thefts. I'd advise you give up now," says Iron Man. As he speaks, a giant squeezes through the gap in the room.

"Because right now," the golden Avenger adds,"I'm rather cranky."

The fight, when it happens, is mercifully brief.

**Later...**

It took some time for everything to be restored to normal. Even after the capture of System Crash and the Hydra forces, many hours were spent restoring order, arresting those who tried to capitalize on the confusion, and fixing the property damage.

After seeing the Avengers and Warbird off, Tony helped on Mrs. Arborgast's coat."I've arranged guest rooms for Mr. Hart, Ms. Nefaria, and Mr. Lang for the night. The device you asked Mr. Martinelli to retrieve will arrive within three business days, and I've booked private consultations with both gentlemen early tomorrow," she told her boss.

"Thank you, Mrs. A," Tony said.

Scott Lang rubbed his neck. "You know, Tony, I really could've gone back with the Avengers."

"I have a proposal for you in the morning, Scott," Tony replied. "Just humor me, okay?"

Scott paused then shrugged. "Hey, as long as your check clears in the morning."

Tony turned to Jack. "First thing in the morning, you and I will discuss everything."

"Good."

His gaze finally landed on Masque. The mystery woman had reverted to her old habit of disguising herself as old flames of Tony's; in this case, Rumiko Fujikawa. "Get your coat, Whitney."

The woman behind the golden mask looked at him oddly. "What do you mean, Tony?"

"I mean get your coat. I have a need to talk about certain things this day has brought to surface, and you're going to tell me everything about those women you may or may not have murdered."

There was a flicker of fear in Masque's eyes...although for a moment, it looked more like confusion.


	19. The Face Is Familiar

Iron Man

Chapter 19: The Face Is Familiar

"My name is Tony Stark…

"…and I am an alcoholic."

In the back, the woman with Rumiko Fujikawa's face made herself some coffee and listened. She went by many names in her life, but was only comfortable wearing two of them: Whitney Frost and Masque. Her eyes wandered over the grimy church sub-basement. The place had dirty walls and dented metal chairs; the room smelled faintly of mold and pine cleanser.

"Earlier today, this whole city had its communications grid shut down. I was trapped in my home while my bodyguard helped defuse the crisis.

The isolation I felt there was much like the isolation I felt when I was drinking."

Whitney tasted the coffee. It had a bitter chemical tang. She wondered what the people Tony was addressing would think if they knew that it was being locked in a high-tech suit of armor with enough armaments to make most countries weep that made Tony think about alcohol again. She could imagine that being locked inside his Iron Man armor without any contact with the outside world was like being locked in a tomb.

"Now that I've been clean for three and a half years, I always find it amusing that people call drinking a 'social activity. If there was one thing I learned during my lost time, it was that alcohol keeps you isolated. During that time when I escaped into the bottle, I drove all my friends away. I let my legacy get taken over by another man, fobbed off my greatest responsibility on my best friend unmindful of his willingness or readiness for the assignment, and hurt some people who meant more to me than the world. All because I wanted to be cut off from anything that caused me pain. I was living in a coffin made of martini glasses and wine casks, and I never realized until later how truly cut off and isolated I had become."

Whitney stood by the refreshments table, one arm crossed over her chest. It was still strange for her, having a Tony Stark more her age than the one she first encountered in the early days of her career.

"That's what alcohol does. It makes you alone. It slashes away at your world, cutting it down to size with every sip until it's just you and the bottle-it's you _in_ the bottle, and no matter how much you want to escape, the walls are too slick and you fall back and drown in the poisons that have become your life."

Whitney looked around at the smattering of men and women sitting in the beaten-up chairs. They were from all walks of life; she recognized some of Tony's peers in the high-tech community, as well as a well-known rap star and a notorious author. But they sat side by side with people who seemed bluer than blue collar without an indication of the slightest discomfort. Whitney supposed this was not surprising, as they were all bound together by something that transcended class, an illness that they would carry with them for the rest of their lives.

"Being trapped brought home how much I miss alcohol. Times like that, I can still _taste_ it on my tongue, and the craving seems impossible to fight. I am an alcoholic. I will never be perfectly fine. But with the help of you, and my other peers, and my friends, I can at least live a normal life again. Thank you."

As the group broke off into sporadic applause, Whitney hugged herself and wondered: _What does this all have to do with me?_

The man with the first name of murder sat at the head of the table, contemplating his mother, his right hand man, the dealer in antiquities, and his master of traps.

The only one of the personages who seemed out of place was Satsujin Moomji's Master of Traps. A dwarf, the Master of Traps insisted on wearing an outfit consisting of a green tunic and tights over a light chainmail suit. The cowl on his head ended in a ludicrous crown that made him look like a chess piece-which was the whole point. The costume was a gift from the Master of Traps' original employer, who had an obsession with the game. Although the dwarf had ceased using the name Satsujin's father gave him, he still insisted on dressing in his honor.

Satsujin's icy blue eyes, given an Asian cast by an epicanthic fold, was focused on the dwarf."Thanks to Mr. Snare's innovative defense against shapeshifters," he said, indicating the dwarf,"we survived Hydra's assault unscathed."

Snare grinned like a cat."Serving my master's scion has only inspired me to new heights."

"My late consort always did appreciate your loyalty," offered the statuesque Indian woman sitting opposite Satsujin. This was Satsujin's mother, a woman who was taught by her husband how to view the game three steps ahead.

"And thanks to Hydra, we know this defense will work against the so-called 'Captains of Industry' Mr. Webster has been kind enough to develop intelligence on. They think they've been operating under cover of anonymity, absorbing other businesses. Once they come calling on us, we will make them our pawns."

Mr. Webster adjusted his tie."Thank you, sir. Now if we can concentrate on the matter at hand…"

Satsujin nodded."We have obtained the essence from the Wakandans. Our next step is to focus on studying how to transfer the essence into a suitable vessel. Mr. Zorba-"

The dealer in antiquities sniffed. He was a tall man whose cape and fancy suit looked as out of place as Mr. Snare's medieval trappings."_Count_ Zorba, Mr. Moomji. If your father had not been a member of our elite circle-"

"You would not tolerate my insolence," Satsujin finished, sounding bored."We have already established this. Can you locate the artifact?"

"After its most recent manifestation," the Count replied,"my subordinates have determined it returned to its tomb in Norway. We are extricating it now."

"Perfect."

Webster consulted his notes."Ummm, Mr. Moomji, if we can now discuss the matter of your security force."

"Of course."

"We've found three candidates to wear the armor. They have experience working as a team, and in operating high-tech ordnance." Webster rifled through the papers in front of him. He was sweating, even though the boardroom was climate controlled."Under the name 'The Raiders,' they served briefly as operatives of Cordco before going freelance."

"Excellent," the woman remarked."You will contact them soon, yes?"

"As soon as we're finished," Webster promised, mopping his brow.

"Excellent," Satsujin said, templing his fingers before him."We are preparing our defense. My father's most honored opponent is not even aware of our moves in this game. And before long, we will have him inextricably checked."

Alex Northen didn't want to die. But as he tasted his own blood and felt his battlesuit overheating, he knew death was eminent.

The blows from his opponent cracked open the vaccu-formed outer shell of the Skull Krusher armor. As Alex stumbled away from the reigning champ, his vision dimmed. He felt the bone fragments of his shattered ribs grind together. The fear in his gut increased with every step the champ made toward him.

_What was I thinking?_ Alex Northen asked himself as the champ fired his repulsor array, breaking the chestplate open like a lobster shell. He spat up some of the blood in his mouth, staining the tinted plexiglass of his right eyeplate.

Alex knew what he was thinking. He was thinking how cool the Armor Wars were, and how he could design a battlesuit to overtake the champ. He was thinking how much the groupies who hung around Riley MacKenzie (League Name: Fry Daddy) would like him if he took the champ down. He was thinking that the prize money would go a long way to getting him out of his parent's house and into a cool pad down near Santa Monica Blvd. He was thinking that being a champion Armor Warrior would be so _cool._

And then the champ stomped on his face, cracking both of the eyeplates wide open. The plexiglass shards tore at Alex's face and eyes. He screamed out like a girl, knowing his time had come.

And then, thanks to the champ's bootjets, Alex Northen wasn't thinking at all.

The last impression Alex had of this world was the crowd crying out for the champ:

"**N-Synner-8! N-Synner-8! N-Synner-8!**"

After the AA meeting, Tony had brought her to a small coffee shop. The choice of venue surprised her-yes, it was upscale for a coffee shop, with the feel and aura of an old-time gentleman's club, but it was still a coffee shop. They sat down at a table and had a light snack. She and Tony talked about the sort of things a dating couple would-film, books, favorite places, their respective histories. An outsider would never know that the two of them had helped save the city several hours before, and that she was not the smart-looking 'brownette' Rae LaCoste she was posing as.

After an hour, Tony brought up the real reason for her being with him.

"I took you to the meeting," Tony told her,"to prove that I was willing to hide nothing from you. And all I ask in return is that you explain to me why you've been killing your doubles."

Whitney Frost blanched underneath her mask. She had dreaded this moment. There were still so many things she hadn't worked out about this world, and about her feelings for this Tony-so much different from the one she followed through the time streams. She looked around for eavesdroppers; the room they were in was empty."I do not think this is the place, Anthony."

"It's the best place for it. I had Happy purchase this place on my behalf for an upcoming project. The building was cleared save for us an hour ago."

_So that explains why we're here_, she thought. Whitney lowered her head. Her mind was filled with all sorts of things to say to him."I…I do not feel I'm ready."

Tony put his hand on her knee."Whitney…the police are already involved. They were the ones who brought me into this. For what it's worth, I don't think those women you killed were alive when you stopped them, but for me to come to a full conclusion, I need to hear your side of the story."

_This was not how the scene was supposed to go,_ Whitney reminded herself. She looked up at Tony, and one of the emotions fighting for attention in her head finally broke through. Tears came to her eyes. And she began her story….

Scott Lang whistled long and low.

He wasn't whistling at the woman who led him to his temporary quarters in Tony Stark's mansion, although he had to admit she was a looker. He was whistling because his room here was larger than the top floor of his house in Rodando.

"Wow. It's a bit much, Ms. Potts."

"I know, but Tony felt you might want extra space if you decide to stay on…and it's Pepper, okay?"

Scott turned to face the woman. He'd heard about her back during the days of Stark International, when the bulk of his work was coming from Tony. He found it very hard to believe that someone who looked so young-the spray of freckles made her seem to be barely 

out of her teens-had been with Tony almost from day one."You have any idea what he wants to talk to me about?"

Pepper hugged her clipboard to her chest. She chewed on her lower lip briefly, as if she was unsure what to say."I'm not sure, Mr. Lang. But his respect for you is obvious; whatever it's going to be, I'm sure it'll be lucrative."

"Lucrative I'm not so worried about," Scott said."And it's Scott, okay?"

Pepper smiled faintly."Okay, Scott."

Scott once again surveyed the room. It was tastefully appointed, with furniture he suspected cost most of his salary for this consulting job."Man, this is so over my head."

"If you need anything, you can just ring Jocie. She's living on-site and pretty much knows where everything is."

"Sure…"

Pepper smiled faintly again. She reached out and touched his arm."Enjoy your evening, Scott. It was nice talking to you."

"Same here." Scott watched her walk away before saying,"Wait…"

Pepper turned."Yes?"

Scott rubbed his neck."You don't mind if I, umm, seek you out after I'm done with Mr. Stark, do you? I mean, you've been with him for so long, and you've probably got more insight into him than anyone-"

Pepper smiled tenatively."Sure, Scott. We'll talk tomorrow."

Scott watched her leave, thinking yet again, _Man, this is so over my head._

I am not from your reality, Tony…I think you suspected that by now. There is so much different between my reality and yours, they might as well be different worlds.

My Tony, the Tony I knew before…what did you Avengers start calling it, The Crossing Affair?…was much younger than you, and less moral. When he first crossed my path, he did not resist coming into the fold of my father's organization. We spent many months pleasuring each other, and exploring the pleasures afforded us as the heir to the Nefaria throne and her consort. We were not aware of your world, Tony, or of the virtuous path you insisted on following.

You now know that when the Avengers plucked my Tony from our world, others followed-Rhodey, Suzanne Endo (who I wished would disappear with a passion, the way she kept fawning over my consort)…

I was left behind initially.

I refused to be left behind, however. The thought of my Tony with that witch Endo, free and clear on another world, burned my soul.

With my father's resources, it was not impossible for me to stage a raid on the Baxter Building of my world. We did not hold it long, but we did hold it long enough for me to seize the one piece of equipment I needed: the Time Platform of Von Doom.

I am an intelligent woman, Tony, but I am not a genius. My consultant in temporal physics trained me as well as he could, pointed out that the Platform didn't travel up and down the time stream but sideways into other universes which simulated times past. He approximated where my Tony was to the best of his ability.

He failed in mapping out my trip. I found myself delivered to your world before my Tony entered your time line. I wonder if my underlings killed him when they realized I was lost.

I tried to prevent the incidents that resulted in your allies in the Avengers bringing my Tony here. You know the results of that attempt, and I knew on some level why I failed; even that early on my time here, I felt wrong, incomplete. There was this sensation of not feeling…whole, of something having been excised from my soul and tossed elsewhere. As such, even though I worked my way into the Avengers' confidence for a brief time as 'Masque,' I was not as effective as I could be-as I am _now_.

During my stay, in the dark hours when the other Avengers weren't watching, I talked with my Tony and tried to persuade him to come back with me. He refused; he saw the way the people of this reality respected you, and plotted to take advantage of it. Devastated, I took advantage of my kidnapping by the robotic Benedict to sever ties with him and his new found so-called 'peers.'

I know what you're thinking, Tony: why didn't I use the Time Platform to return to my world? The answer is simple. I couldn't. And as I researched my condition, I found out why.

The calculations made by my consultant were more off than I thought. He was a child trying to comprehend the most advanced of sciences. And because he failed to get the calculations right, I suffered a temporal fracture: I was spread out over a period of time, many Guiletta Nefarias, all of them a represenative of my condition in a quantum envelope of time-a Polaroid of a instance of my life that walks and talks and is unaware of its origins. And because each Nefaria is incomplete, new cells are being created to take the place of the missing material. Malignant cells. Cells that will kill them over time.

I am dying, Tony, of what could realistically be called temporal cancer. And if I don't reintegrate my fractured selves, I will die.

I don't know how, Tony, but someone somewhere has gotten hold of the essence of my other selves, and they've found a way to transfer them into new host bodies to stem the spread of the disease…maybe using this Infinity Formula you told me about. I am positive that these hosts are dead when I find them. I've been tracking them down to reintegrate that which is mine.

But I won't have to kill any more if we find the person using my other selves in this way. Please help me.

The total destruction of the main civilization of Actura-VIII took all of three hours and the wrong response to one question.

The question was,"Do you have a God?"

The wrong response was,"Yes."

Within moments, legions of humanoid figures in armor not familiar to the peaceful people of this planet swooped down, golden rays flashing in the hazy daylight. As these unwelcome intruders smashed their way through villagers who knew very little of the myriad worlds outside of their own save that shared by the regular traders come to purchase minerals from them (and whom the villagers thought these armored men were at first), a fleet of ships ringed their planet, providing support in the shape of beams from above. The smell of burning flesh became the dominant one within a half hour of initial contact.

The helmets of these armored intruders, in some primeval way, stirred memories the Acturans had deep in their cultural subconscious. Painted green, these helmets were recent additions to the intruder's livery, a spikey tribute to those creatures they considered, ironically enough, their spiritual leaders.

By the end of the third hour, when the air of Actura-VIII became stifling because of the toxic fumes released by the burning of homes and citizens, when very little existed that indicated that Actura-VIII had once supported anything close to life, the miners were beamed down. The miners would spend the next three days raping the planet of minerals a buyer in the Atredies Spiral was willing to pay handsomely for.

And the woman who ordered those miners planetside, who used her honeyed words to placate the leader of the armored warrior (a gentleman with the improbable name of Laserface), would look at what she had wrought on a viewscreen and smiled.

It had taken a long time, thought the woman called Nebula. It had taken a great deal of negotiation and work. But it finally looked like she was going to achieve what her both her natural father and spiritual grandfather had failed to do.

With the help of the Stark, she was going to obliterate the planet Earth, suck every last bit of worth out of it, and move on. And then, the universe would be hers.

All in several short weeks' time.

Tony say back after Whitney finished her story. He paused, letting the implications of what the woman had told him wash over him. He took a sip of his cappucino and said,"I don't disbelieve you," he said deliberately.

Whitney made to stand up."I knew this moment was coming, Anthony. I never went to prison on my world, and I do not intend my first stay there to be in a world not my own."

Tony rose and reached out to steady her."Calm down, Whitney, and let me finish."

Whitney stared at him with Rae LaCoste's eyes. Slowly, she sat back down.

"I don't disbelieve you," Tony repeated."How could I disbelieve you? I _lived_ through the Crossing. I fought your versions of myself and Rhodey and Suzi over Hong Kong. With the Avengers and without, I've traveled through time and know the hazards inherent there.

**--see the"Mandarin Lies" arc**

"So I don't disbelieve you, and you _know_ that I suspected those duplicates of yours weren't alive to begin with. But for you and I to go to the police and SHIELD to prove you're not a murderer requires we examine one of your duplicates _alive_."

**--a suspicion he voiced in issue #17**

Whitney looked around the empty room."I'm dying, Tony. I don't have much time."

"I know," Tony replied."And I will work with you to locate the next of your duplicates. But you have to let this one _live._ You know that with my connections, we could find a way to extract your temporal fragment without destroying the host if the host is salvageable."

"I don't know…"

Tony reached out and took Whitney's hand."I told you in the car this morning that I would help you, Whitney. I proved tonight that I trust you, and I wanted you to trust me. Please let's do things my way."

Whitney's eyes rested on Tony's hand in hers. She tamped down the overwhelming fear she had of allowing herself to be vulnerable before this man. But in the end she did what her heart told her to do and nodded.

The Golden Avenger and the Jack of Hearts wove around Whiplash. The villain, dressed in black leather fetishwear, made his whips dance as living things, barely missing the two heroes. The morning rush hour traffic in and around Sea-Tac was temporarily stilled, as hundreds of commuters looked up to observe the three-way battle. Below the three combatants, FBI Agents herded a rotund gentleman into the nearest terminal, guns drawn.

"Let me get this straight, Shellhead," Jack said as he fired a blast of zero fuel that tipped the hover platform Whiplash rode."This guy's only thing is he's really, really good with whips."

Whiplash shifted his weight quickly to stabilize his transport."Shut up!" he shouted and snapped off a whipcrack that would have taken off Jack's head if he hadn't floated back a half inch.

"That is basically it, Jack," the electronically augmented voice of Iron Man answered.

"And yet he always seems to be fighting guys in big heavy suits of armor," Jack continued."You'd think he'd go after, I dunno, Daredevil or Black Panther or someone more like that. Someone who would actually get hurt if those whips connected."

"Shut yer trap!" Whiplash shouted. He aimed his whip, charged with a near lethal dose of electricity, at Iron Man."Five more minutes and I would've been gone."

The Golden Avenger fired a repulsor blast that deflected the lash handily. Jack rose up behind the man and fired a zero fuel blast at his feet. Whiplash nimbly leapt over the path of the energy and landed back on his platform without missing a beat.

"The problem with giving you five more minutes," Iron Man said,"is that you would have killed the Transian Ambassador. We heroes don't take kindly to that."

"Can't a guy earn a living?" Whiplash shot back. His hand flashed out and before the Golden Avenger could react, a set of bolos wrapped around his midsection.

"I thought your deal was whips," Jack commented.

"How many times have I told you," Whiplash growled,"to **Shut up**?"

The villain let fly with one of his whips. Accompanied by a crack like a gunshot, the whip raked over Jack's chestplate, tearing it open like Christmas wrapping paper. The hero looked down at gash and shook his head.

"I see I won't have to worry about breaking out of these bolos so quickly," Iron Man said.

"Ahhh, you shouldn't have done that," Jack added.

Without warning, the gap in the Jack of Heart's armor exploded outward. Whiplash was hit full in the face with a blast of zero fuel. The leather-clad man fell backward and off the flying platform. With a shrug, Iron Man snapped the bolo wire-which, if Whiplash had had a moment to activate its gravity controls, would have started crushing the armor-and swooped down to grab the man.

"Guess who's going to jail?" Iron Man asked in a singsong voice that sounded near comical.

Scott Lang sat in a chair in a small conference room in the west wing of Tony Stark's house. A small carafe off coffee stood in front of him. He did not bother to pour any; his nerves were still jangling from his participation in yesterday's operation against System Crash and his own concerns as to what this meeting was about.

He didn't mind helping out Tony Stark-if it wasn't for his patronage and sponsorship (along with that of Fantastic Four, Inc.), Scott would never have been able to found his own firm and build a life for himself and his daughter after serving his jail time. But Tony was on a level so far removed from him. It seemed like there wasn't a year when Scott didn't hear about Tony being crippled or dead or missing….

The door opened. Scott rose, but sank back down in his chair when he saw who was coming in. Iron Man, accompanied by Mrs. Aborgast's niece, Jocie strode in. The two of them were consulting a clipboard thick with paper.

"…so the telemetry protocols seemed to have worked," Jocie said, pushing back a stray fall of dark hair over her ear. Scott was struck by how much the woman resembled her aunt-if her aunt was younger, thinner and had a curvier figure.

"Good. So we're moving in the right direction," Iron Man replied."The trick is going to be allowing for switchover once the system is anchored directly into my internal support systems. But then, that's why we have Mr. Lang here."

Jocie looked up from her clipboard and smiled."Good morning, Mr. Lang."

"M-morning." Scott looked to the young woman then to Iron Man."I-I'm sorry. Maybe I was mistaken. I thought my meeting was with Mr. Stark."

As his personal assistant closed the door, the Golden Avenger continued,"Mr. Lang, I'm about to confide something in you that I hope you realize will be only be between the three of us in this room. I do think I can trust you; after all, I put my life in your hands at one time."

Scott felt his stomach knotting."Ummmm, sure…"

Upon hearing Scott's agreement, Iron Man slowly uncoupled the magnetic seals on his helmet and lifted up his face plate. Tony Stark looked out at him.

Scott's mouth hung open. He closed it, then opened it again, then closed it. Finally, he said,"Wow…I mean, I….wow."

"I know this might take some getting used to."

"Well, a _bit_," Scott admitted."I sometimes suspected, but…you know, all your heart problems and such, I didn't think…"

Tony tripped the cybernetic command that allowed the armor to retract around him. He sat down in an opposite chair."The armor, believe it or not, was originally created to keep my heart alive…and later was used to give me mobility when Kathy Dare crippled me."

"Wow," Scott said. He exhaled, then asked,"Why are you trusting me with this now, Tony?"

"Because, Scott," Tony replied,"I've been having problems with my armor throughout my career. It's a powerful weapon, and far too often it's been taken over and used by others. After my last experience, I decided I was going to redesign it to prevent outside interference from ever happening again. And the way I'm going to do that is to make it so that the armor can only be used by myself and, in an emergency, Ms. Arborgast. What I want to do is hire you to aid me in building the electronic systems for this new armor. Are you game?"

"But," Scott said,"There's Cassie, and you know, my business-"

"I'm willing to pay for relocation up here, and if you're willing to help me out, I've already picked out the perfect site for the new Lang Electronics building-it's got a very nice coffee shop on the first floor, I'm sure you'll love it. I won't stop you from picking up other business, but I will want to put you on permanent retainer to Stark Solutions as my electronics maven."

Scott thought briefly. The thought of working on one of the most complex weapon systems-for that was what it was-known to man made him even more nervous than he already was. But the opportunity to work besides one of the greatest geniuses in the world….

He sat back and smiled."Hey, what's not to like?"

Tony returned the smile."Good. Here's what we're going to do…"

In three days time, the Los Angeles Police Department will find the body of a college-aged man in the network of aqueducts ringing the City of Angels. His face will be so extensively burned that it will take dental records to confirm his identity.

The day after that, a search of the young man's room in the basement of his parents' house will yield schematics the likes of which these policemen have never seen, 'retroconstructed' blueprints to suits of armor known far and wide. They will discover on his hard drive evidence of purchases of super-hero and villain memorabilia on e-bay centering on high tech metahumans, and several references to something known as 'Armor Wars.'

Knowing of a colleague up in Seattle who deals extensively with Iron Man's employer, Tony Stark, they forward their findings there. Amongst the data is the fact that some of the wounds on the boy's body seemed to resemble those accrued from repulsor blasts.

Detective Plexico will call Tony Stark in that afternoon.


	20. Junkyard Warriors

Iron Man

Chapter 20: Junkyard Warriors

It began innocently enough.

My life and business had calmed down after the attempt to raid Seattle's technological firms by Hydra and System Crash. Granted, I still had a few things on my hands, much of it thanks to my newly acquired houseguests. I had promised Whitney Frost that I would help her locate one of her remaining 'chronal duplicates' so I could find a cure for her temporal cancer. Jack Hart, with Jocasta's help, had been set up in his own laboratory to help prepare us for an impending invasion by a race that worshipped me as a god.

I was determined that morning to start work on a new set of armor with Scott Lang. Throughout my career, Scott had come through several times to help me; I was counting on him to come through again and develop electronic countermeasures and security to make sure this new armor was going to be mine and mine along to control. I had lent him my preliminary schematics the night before, and the plan was for us to discuss possible avenues to achieve our goals in the morning.

When I got to the lab we had put aside for our consultation, Scott was talking to Pepper. I lingered a bit, not wanting to break up their conversation. For as long as I'd known Scott, I'd never seen him date; Pepper had been at sea ever since I returned from the so-called 'Counter Earth', still reeling from her divorce from Happy and keeping to herself. There was an obvious energy between them. Since they were my friends, I was hoping it would develop into something.

I admit, I thought for a moment about how Happy Hogan would take it if Pep and Scott did start dating. He was still in love with his ex-wife, and I feared the fall would come hard.

Eventually, I had to intervene."Good morning, people."

Scott actually jumped. Pepper turned to me."Hello, boss. You're bright and cheery today."

"Am I? Maybe it's just the possibilities Scott and I are working on." I wasn't exactly lying there; I've always been at my happiest when elbow-deep in circuits. And if everything worked out, this version of my armor was finally going to be secure from invasion. No one-not business rivals or time travelling super villains or alien androids drunk on emotion-were going to take it over.

Pepper winked."Well, it looks good on you. I'll leave you two to it."

"I'll talk to you later," Scott said.

"Sure, Scott. Just don't let him keep you too long past lunch." I waited until Pepper left the lab before putting down the legal pad I had tucked under one arm. Scott lingered a bit, watching my personal assistant leave.

"She's quite a woman, Scott."

Scott snapped out of his reverie."Sorry, boss." He sat down opposite me."So where you want to start."

"Is Cassie adjusting to the move?"

"About as well as a young girl can. The building you got us is great."

I laughed."If you ever need any coffee from downstairs, have them put it on my tab. I have to have some fun in owning the place. Did you get the time to look over my preliminary notes last night?"

Scott nodded."Sure did. They're a little heady for someone like me-you actually have an artificial nervous system?"

"Yes. It's not something I like to talk about much," I told him honestly. I didn't feel too bad that I was concealing _why_ I didn't talk much about it. It wasn't any of his business.

"Except that it's at the core of your new designs," Scott added.

I paused and considered his statement."More or less. What we're going to do, Scott, is create a version of the armor that will plug in directly to my nervous system, using the unique DNA-coded circuitry as a key to unlock the operating system. If we pull this off, no one will ever be able to use Iron Man as a weapon of terror again."

Scott studied my face."Hey, I'm all for that. You do realize we're going to have to do some more implants on you. And we can't just use a mall hack…"

"Of course. I was thinking of our friend Dr. Sondheim." Dr. Erica Sondheim was a leading neurologist, and the both the reasons Scott became Ant-Man and I was able to walk again."Don't worry about me. I've been thinking about this option for a long time; it's only because recent events have driven home the need to keep the Iron Man armor secure that I'm pushing to get it done now."

"Okay, Tony," Scott replied."Just understand that I'm still a little freaked out by all the new information you've been throwing at me of late."

"Logged and noted, old friend," I said."As long as you understand I wouldn't have brought you into this project unless I truly respected your intelligence and creativity."

Scott blinked once and looked like he had just been slapped. Then, to my surprise, he laughed."Awwwww, _man_…if you knew how weird that sounded coming out of your mouth."

Before I could ask him anything further, the intercom came on."Sorry to interrupt you, boss," said the steel-wool-scoured voice of my old friend Happy Hogan,"but there's a Detective Plexico insisting on seeing you."

It was my turn to look surprised. I had been helping the Detective on a case-I was presently trying to figure out how to broker a deal between himself and the woman who seemed to have been the culprit-but I didn't expect him that morning, nor did I expect him to be 'insisting' on seeing me.

I looked to Scott."Do you mind if I see what this is about?"

"Go ahead, Tony," Scott shot back."It's not like I've had time to drum up other clientele in Seattle."

As I rose, I told him,"We'll have to change that. Remind me to make a few calls later. I'll be back quickly."

The hard copies were laid out before me. I poured through them with an engineer's eye, impressed in spite of myself.

The bulk of what Detective Plexico had showed me was reverse-engineered schematics and technical drawings of various personal armor weaponry. I recognized the 'beam-horn' of the Unicorn, the electrical field generator of the Eel, the neural net of the Raiders, the so-called 'sonic carapace' of Songbird and even an interesting (but wrong-headed) retrofit revolving around Chemistro's 'alchemy gun,' among other things. All were done with the attention to detail and zeal of a person who lived for the smell of machine oil and the shine of chrome. Whoever these designers were, a high-powered research firm could easily have hired them. The truth is, I would've hired them in a minute to work for me in my Stark Enterprises days.

The skill and dedication of the schematics impressed me. The evidence of what these budding engineers were doing with their work sickened me.

"Armor Wars?" I asked Detective Plexico.

"Yeah," the Detective shot back."Hard to believe isn't it?"

"Maybe not." I sorted through the articles snatched from 'Armor Wars' websites recounting recent matches, brightly colored, anime-influenced invites to events and stats for the most prominent participants."Look at what's made it to the public as mainstream entertainment. But this goes way beyond 'extreme sports.'"

"The boys down in LAPD and I think a better match is 'backyard wrestling.' Some wrestling freaks decide to form their own federation without the consent or participation of the local sports authorities and begin power-bombing each other off their garage roof. Or even those robot fighting leagues-"

"It's a small step from robotic combat to personal power suits." I picked up a flyer announcing 'Repulsor Rave,' featuring five rounds of Armor Wars combat and an all-night set by DJ Revenger."How long has this been going on? And how have they been finding the equipment to do their reverse engineering exercises on?"

"Ebay."

I turned to look the Detective in the eye. I didn't know him for long, but from what little interaction I had had with him, he was a good man, very dedicated to the job."You're joking, certainly."

"I wish." Plexico shrugged."You saw yourself how quickly sellers were offering rubble from September 11th on there. There's a big trade in the sale of 'metahuman conflict memorabilia that popped up in the last few years…you figure there might even be a sort of super-hero version of a tornado chaser, monitoring police bands for word of a super-fight."

"That's insane."

"And putting on a hi-tech suit of armor to protect your boss isn't?"

"You have a point there," I said after a pause. I wondered briefly what the detective would think if I told him that in actually _I_ was slipping into the armor and posing as my own bodyguard. I put down the materials."So if these people are endangering themselves and others, why haven't you broken the operation yet?"

"We haven't had anything to break them with. These kids don't even do designer drugs like those ravers do-"

"Until you found that poor boy's body." I got up from my seat."Are you sure that some of the trauma was caused by reverse-engineered repulsor technology?"

"That's what Meta-Forensics is saying," Plexico replied.

I nodded."With your permission, Detective, I will bring this to Iron Man's attention. I assure you, he will help you in whatever capacity necessary to bring this boy's murderer to justice."

It didn't take long for Whitney and me to find the spot near the back of the dance floor where Armor War 'fans and stars' registered for tonight's bouts. From what Whitney was able to gather as we planned our attack, many people came to AW events just for the party in the upper levels; to watch the actual combat card cost an extra fee.

To participate cost even more.

Even though a pair of steel doors separated the registration booth and the dance floor, the thudding music still bled through the concrete in a _basso profundo_ rumble. This was the first time I ever did business to the beat of a jungle mix of a Limp Bizkit mix.

The boy with the spiked out hair sitting behind the folding table looked up."Hey, you like to watch or rock?"

Whitney adjusted her mirrored shade. She laid down the entrance fee in crisp ten-dollar bills."I'll be watching, hun. He'll be rocking."

"First time participating?"

"Professionally," I muttered through gritted teeth.

"I'll need to see your green then, son. Cash or charge?"

I reached into my front jacket pocket and pulled out corporate platinum Visa. This particular number was used only rarely, in situations where I needed to keep my identity a secret. It was Iron Man's credit line.

The boy looked at the card, then at me, then at the card again, then at Whitney for good measure."Oh, no….no, this….I don't think you can participate in the open challenges."

"My money not good enough?" I asked, trying my best to keep a disaffected snarl in my voice.

"No, it's…but you're-you're, like-"

"You can spit it out," Whitney said, gracing the kid with a perfect razor-blade smile."He's Iron Man."

"I hear you punks are biting my moves," I snarled-all the while thinking, _who talks like this?_."I've come to show them a lesson or two."

"But you…you're not eligible. I mean, you're--_you!_" The boy rose from his seat."I mean, you're welcome to watch as the house's guest. Hell, it'd be an honor to perform before you, sir. But the legal issues-"

I turned to Whitney and laughed."That's a first. An illegal fighting parlor worrying about legal issues."

"You know what I mean, Mr….Mr. Man, sir. Our athletes are amateurs utilizing homemade extrapolations of your weapon systems. It would-you know, be unfair."

From behind me, a voice that dripped of sarcasm asked,"Holding back the rabble, Dewey?"

I looked over my shoulder. A kid pushed his way up behind me. He was dressed in a black armored suit that seemed only three-fourths finished. Wires were exposed at points in the joins, small high-pitched whines rang out with each movement-the sign of improperly fitted hydraulics-and the welds on some of the plates had not been buffed out. Along his chest and down his arms, someone had painted flames as if he was a man-shaped hot rod.

The boy behind the table gestured to the new arrival. I felt the kid in black try to push me aside."Iron Man…this is our local league champion Terry Newcomb-"

The kid in the armor's eyebrow raised. A smirk slowly developed on his full lips."Iron Man? You sh&#ing me?"

"I don't need to impress school kids by making stuff up," I growled.

"Wow…this is an honor," he said in a way that made it clear it wasn't. Terry extended his hand."Dewey got it wrong, though. When I'm here, the name's N-Synner-8."

I returned the boy's smirk and took his hand."I've been looking forward to meeting you."

We waited outside the high school for hours, the police detective in charge of the investigation riding shotgun. His name was Melcowitz, and even though he was separated from Plexico by several states, it was obvious he shared my associate's zeal.

"We appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Stark," Melcowitz told me for the fifth time. With a physique teetering on the fat and a high-domed forehead dotted with sweat, he was not my image of a Los Angeles cop. He explained he transferred over from Portland, Maine of all places-which I guess explained a lot.

The school bell rang, and the battery of doors flew open, releasing students from another day of perceived servitude. The detective, Whitney (this time wearing Marianne Rogers' delicate form) and I consulted the photo we had in our hands and tried to pick out Ryan MacKenzie.

According to the journal the dead boy kept, Ryan was the friend who initiated him into the Armor Wars circuit. Cross referencing his 'tag' of Fry Daddy with the Armor Wars sites, we learned that Ryan had participated until two weeks ago…

When Alex Northern, tag name Skull Krusher, died. Only the sites didn't mention that last part.

Whitney put her hand on my shoulder."Tony, look."

I did. The boy in the picture was weaving his way through the crowd, looking lost in clothes that were several sizes too big for him. His hair was buzzed extra-short-as close to being bald as you can get without breaking out the straight razor. Over one shoulder he carried a shapeless backpack.

I adjusted my tie and told the detective and Whitney,"I'll be back."

Ryan seemed lost in his own world. Even though the chaos of high school (and yes, the circumstances may have been different, but even I had to endure a high school life that was Hell), he wandered in the general direction of the curb with eyes cast downward. Some of his fellow students bumped into him, but he didn't acknowledge them. There seemed to be something painful going on behind his eyes, and I felt I knew what it was.

It was the same pain I felt years ago when my parents died. And I expressed my pain just as dramatically.

I picked up the pace as he hit the curb. He crossed the street unmindful of the traffic in the road; opposite the school was a small park, manicured bushes and stone benches. He wandered through the front gate as if on autopilot.

When I caught up with him, I said, simply,"Mr. McKenzie."

Ryan turned. I could see the slight flicker of shock in his face when he recognized me, a flicker he hid away almost immediately."What?"

"My name is-"

"I know who you are," the boy said sulkily.

"Okay," I said with a nod of my head."I need to talk to you about Alex."

The appearance of N-Synner-8 had brought a crowd; I shouldn't have been surprised. He was the major celebrity here in Holowood, the Tony Hawk or Rock of their culture. I was used to this sort of behavior around me; what I wasn't used to was it being focused on someone other than myself.

"I'm still trying to scope out why you're so interested in the Wars, Big Man."

I shrugged, still trying to retain my 'character.'"Mr. Stark got word you're using derivatives from his patents. He and my predecessor worked mighty hard to keep those patents out of the hands of people who weren't using them for the right reasons. So he wants you to stop."

N-Synner-8 laughed and turned to the gathering crowd."Ooooooooh….you hear that? The big man wants us to pack up our toys and go home."

The boos and insults made it clear what the crowd at Holowood thought of that. The boy faced me again grinning."I sweated this suit of armor _hard_, big man. Searched out all the parts I needed, paid good money and worked out the design and engineering principles myself until they worked for me. What makes you think I'm gonna give up the Wars just like that?"

"Didn't expect you to," I grunted."But I'm willing to make a wager. This is supposed to be a sport, isn't it?"

"You know it."

"Let me compete. My armor against yours. Winner takes all."

I could hear the murmuring of rumors whipping through the crowd. N-Synner-8's smile turned to a slightly open gape. He looked back at his audience, then at me."You mean…"

"I have authorization from Tony Stark. If I win, you surrender yourself and the armor and this leg of the circuit gets shut down. If you win…you get your very own Iron Man armor to cannibalize for parts."

The boy grinned again wolfishly."What's not to like?"

I leaned in and whispered,"You surrender yourself…that means to the cops. I know what you did."

Whitney daubed at my face with the surgical sponge. The sponge was soaked in her own concoction, one of the secrets that allowed her to change appearance faster than most men could blink. We were alone in our hotel room, and she was secure enough after sweeping the area to switch to her normal, gold-masked appearance. I sat still and tried not to let my mind 

wander to a time when this sort of physical closeness was shared between another Whitney, and myself one who in all likelihood was long dead.

"I'm going to give you some appliances to hold in your cheeks…they'll change the shape of your face and detract from your eyes," she told me.

"I'm still having problems dealing with the missing mustache," I joked. My mustache was the first thing Whitney had taken care of, shaving it off quickly.

"We have to make you look different, Tony. These kids may not know what they're doing, but that makes them more dangerous. They worship you and might make connections you don't want made-"

"I know," I said."And I agree-I'm crashing this party Ryan told us about as Iron Man, not as Tony Stark."

"I wish you'd let me use some pigment to change your complexion, Tony," Whitney said as she continued applying the liquid make-up. Once applied, it would dry and become a flexible, porous mask to hide my feature. I was constantly aware of her scent, like a hothouse orchid's."And we're not crashing."

"What do you mean?"

"I may not be this world's 'Madame Masque'," she told me plainly as she put the sponge in a shallow pan of water."But the underworld of Los Angeles doesn't know that. I was able to get us invites."

"You didn't have to do that."

She rummaged through her suitcase."I did, Tony. You believe in me. You agree to help cure me. You didn't turn me over to Detective Plexico when you could have. I feel obligated to help you in some way…" She then turned away briefly to examine the various dyes she had pulled for my hair. I don't think she intended me to hear her next comment. But I caught sight of her in the mirror, read her lips, and wondered what she meant when she said,"…even if you're helping someone else."

The music was amped up to ear-blistering levels in the arena. It was so bad I had to engage sound filters to smooth out the higher end and preserve my hearing. Colored lights played along the floor and along the bleacher-style seating. The Armor Wars arena, like the rave above us, was designed with an eye toward impermanence and ease of dismantling.

I reminded myself that most of the kids who participated in these events were just smart people who were addicted to the thrill of the sport. No one, from what myself and Whitney and Detective Melcowitz could piece together, had been killed before Alex Northern. But we also didn't know about the serious injuries, or the certainty that if it happened once, it would happen again. I owed it to myself and these kids to shut this down before it got out of hand.

The lights fell on a raised platform in the stands. Rob Zombie's 'More Human Than Human' was faded out and a tall, gangly boy with Chinese eyes and a hyena's smile, his jacket shiny with quilted silver panels, took the mike."Ladies and gentlemen….there has been a slight change in plans with tonight's card. Tonight, _for this night only_, we have our first and only edition of…**Celebrity Armor Wars**!"

The roar of the crowd reverberated off the rafters. I looked around; it seemed rumors of my encounter with N-Synner-8 had circulated on the dance floor, and the bleachers were packed. A whole mass of people stood on the highest bench, up against the heavy-duty insulation that lined the arena.

"In the center ring, straight from Seattle, high priced coffee capital of the free world, the capital-M-Man himself, the guy who put the War in Armor Wars…the one, the only, the accept-no-substitute-original….**Iron Man**!"

I heard the reaction of the crowd. It was mostly negative. I was not surprised. The music was amped up again-another hardcore-style band that sounded just like the last hardcore band, this one singing about being a 'sinner.'

"And making his way into the arena, hailing from our very own Silverlake region, the reigning champion-the Last Legend Standing, the King of Carnage hoping to add some big name blood to his undefeated record…pals and gals, _damen un herren_, I proudly present to you the Master of Disaster himself…._N…Synner…__**8!**_!"

The cheer went up in the stands as the boy descended from the rafters. It was apparent that what he was wearing was not what he wore when I made the challenge. Heavy plates that gleamed with thin, sharp metallic edges now covered the exposed joints I had made note of when I talked to him in the club. His silhouette was larger, more imposing. Large cannon-like objects were riding his forearms, and his back bore a strange pod reminiscent of the construction worn by the last incarnation of The Beetle. The blackness of the armor seemed to suck all the light in around it, save for the portions where he had painted the red and gold hot rod flames.

"You like, shell-head?" N-Synner-8 intoned through his electronic voice scrambler, making his words sound like the buzzing of a hundred insects. Around us, thick Lexam shields rose to protect the paying audience."Ryan alerted me to your crashing the party in time for me to finish up the upgrades on my armor."

"This fight is a First Blood Match with no time limit," the deejay announced. The hardcore band was faded out, and a heavy-bass jungle groove was pumped through the speakers; the crowd's idea of battle-music, most likely."So _Let's Get It Ooooon!_

N-Synner-8 immediately raised his left arm and fired. The beam that slammed into my chest lifted me off my feet and into the arena wall. My HUD started flashing red, as the radiation in the meson stream began effecting the sensor array.

I raised my hands ready to let fire on the boy. His bulk took to the air on energy wings.

"Thanks for letting my second kill be a celebrity…really," N-Synner-8 said, chuckling low, over my speakers. He dodged my repulsor blast and let fire with the canon on his right arm. A 

spiked metallic projectile slammed into my right side, and the HUD alerted me to a hairline fracture.

And the crowd went wild.


	21. One Fall , Ten Minute Time Limit

Iron Man

Chapter 21: One Fall , Ten Minute Time Limit

I stood in the stands, filtering out the thumping base and the flashing colored lights that spun their way through the crowd. My attention was focused on the black garbed warrior—the child that proclaimed itself 'N-Synner-8' to Tony earlier this evening--hammering at the Iron Man armor. Placed in my ear was a small receiver that picked up everything Tony could hear on the floor. Coupled with the subdural transmitter surgically placed against my jaw, it made a powerful, invisible communications system. The sounds I was hearing at that moment were the horrifying impacts of N-Synner-8's punches against Tony's armor.

"This can't be a homemade suit of armor, Tony,"I subvocalized. Deep in my stomach, I felt fear that this was where Tony's confidence would serve to destroy him. He could have appeared in a makeshift 'disguise' armor, after all…but instead he chose to appear as himself, the inspiration for this insane 'sport.' It reminded me a lot of stories Tony's assistant Mrs. Arborgast told me recently of when Tony found his technology was appropriated by several armored criminals. Tony chose to hunt these criminals down himself and almost was killed for his arrogance. And here I was, watching it again.

I saw Tony release a magnesium flare. The crowd gasped along with N-Synner-8. The spectators began rubbing their eyes franticly. "I'm likely to agree with you, Whitney. Just concentrate on your part. I can handle myself."

Tony took to the air as I looked about for the easiest venue of escape. He went as high as the arena ceiling would let him, twisted and fired a double repulsor blast at the boy. In response, N-Synner-8's right arm went up and a flickering, barely there version of the force-shield created by Edwin Cord for the Raiders manifested itself. The impacts drove the boy back, but he kept his footing.

_Yes,_ I decided. _Certainly not homemade._

I pushed past the people nearest me and made for the nearest aisle. Not far from this warehouse—dubbed 'Holowood' by the Armor War enthusiasts running this insane party--was Detective Melcowitz of the Los Angeles Police Department and a squad from the LAPD Metacrime Task Force. Within their possession was a one-shot EMP generator that would effectively freeze any and all electronics within this warehouse for a half-hour.

All they needed was a signal from me—which would require my finding a spot away from this sub-basement arena where my communications gear would work.

The cheers were deafening. Tony kept up the repulsor barrage until the force shield shattered. Over my comm-link, I heard Tony ask his opponent,"So what's the deal, Terry? You get some help with your little toy?"

The boy extended his arm and sent forth a stream of flame from large ducts over his hands. The crowd roared. "I'm not Terry! I'm N-Synner-8…and here's why!"

The crowd cheered. I started running for the exit, looking over my shoulder every second to make sure Tony was okay. The flames seemed to roll off his refractory coating, but with N-Synner-8's initial assault having potentially damaged his armor….

"That's all you got, Terry…or should I say you patrons got?"Tony said, trying to laugh. But I could detect a touch of pain in his voice. I stopped, allowing myself a moment of worry for a man who, by all rights, I should hate to the center of my soul.

Terry—N-Synner-8—took to the skies on his jet boots and slammed into Tony. I heard Tony exclaim in surprise as he slammed into the ceiling, cracking the surface. "This is my design, Shellhead….Baintronics may have paid me sponsorship money to test some of their ordnance, but _I_ designed everything!"

I turned to run, complete my part of the mission. N-Synner-8 had admitted he'd killed another competitor and made his intention to kill Tony clear. I needed to trigger the signal and put a stop to things before the boy in the black hot-rod-flamed armor made good on that promise. Behind me, Tony was blocking blows from his opponent's fists, fists that glowed red-hot.

"Baintronics? You _are_ down with the losers, aren't you, Terry?" Tony sneered. The bravado sounded good, even though the beeping in his armor indicating localized overheating didn't.

"Don't call me that!"

As I got closer to the exit, I could see two figures rushing to intercept me. They were both male—like most aggression-based sports, it seemed Armor Wars was testosterone driven—and wore armor more in keeping in line with what N-Synner-8 had worn while topside. The lights were dim, occasionally punctuated by illumination from the sparks in the arena. From what I could make out, there armor covered only part of their body. One wore an orange and yellow breastplate that supported exo-skeleton like braces along his limbs. The other wore gauntlets that surrounded his fists with fire. Even in the shadow of his raised visor, I recognized the latter as Ryan, the boy whose friend had been murdered.

He went by the handle Fry Daddy, if I recalled correctly.

"You're not going anywhere, Ms. Endo,"Ryan told me. I had almost forgotten which of the faces I was wearing tonight. "No one is allowed in or out of the arena after the show has started."

"Alex would have been so proud,"I shot back and moved into the orbit of 'Fry Daddy's' reach. I pulled my pistol, bringing it hard into the boy's nose. There was a crunch and a gush of blood. The boy instinctively brought his hands to his injured face—and burned himself for his trouble.

"Holy s!"called out Ryan's companion as the boy screamed."Told you to lower your face plate."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tony managing to catch N-Synner-8 forearm as he threw a punch. Fluidly, Tony let his martial arts training take over and threw the boy over his shoulder and into the ground.

"It hurts, dude!"Ryan squealed.

The boy in orange and yellow took a kata stance. "You're in trouble deep, chickie. You're facing the Armor Wars Lightweight Champion, Shocker-Wave!"

I gave him a spinning roundhouse kick, driving the boy back into the wall. "You have that half right."

In the arena, Tony severed some of the joists holding the lighting rig suspended. Three spotlights fell to the ground onto N-Synner-8. The crowd cheered.

Shocker-Wave—where did they come up with these names?—pushed himself away from the wall and started throwing a series of punches. I went to block them, and got a series of low-level shocks for my troubles. The leather of my outfit took the brunt of most of it, but each impact managed to numb my arms a little more. My body sang with pain, but I focused past it.

Behind me, there was a horrible shuddering sound. I kneed my opponent in the crotch and focused on the arena for a moment.

The spots were shaking like mad. Then, they flew through the air in several directions, bouncing off the Lexam shields protecting the audience.

I heard footsteps behind me. I dropped low and executed a leg sweep. Ryan, who had apparently recovered his senses enough to try and attack me from behind, tripped over me and barreled into his friend, flaming hands extended. 'Shocker-Wave' yelped in pain.

"Like that?"I heard N-Synner-8 crow to Tony. "It's a short burst counter-polarity field. Can't use it a lot, but it beats digging out of rubble yourself."

I rose to my full height and twirled the gun in my hand, grasping the barrel and bringing the butt down hard on 'Fry Daddy's' head. His helmet was a modified S.W.A.T. team riot control model—it provided no protection to the base of the neck. 'Shocker-Wave' was too busy cursing, his shirt smoldering. I took advantage of his disorientation, moving behind him and grabbing him in a standard armbar.

On the stage, N-Synner-8 was speeding toward Tony, shooting streams of fire his way. Tony flew up and over the young man and fired a cryogenic capsule at him. The hi-tech coolant hit N-Synner-8's arms, freezing them over.

"Owww!"cried out 'Shocker-Wave.'

"Sending lightweights up against pros? Not a good idea, boy,"I whispered in his ear before shoving him against the near wall and heading for the double doors to the main floor. I lowered my shoulder and hit them hard just as Tony flew past his opponent, smacking the boy's flame projectors so hard that they shattered.

I heard him over the comm-link say to N-Synner-8,"You're not playing with fire any more tonight, kid."

"Stop her!"called out 'Shocker-Wave' between coughing fits.

I ran past the registration table, already closed for the night, toward the thumping beat of the dance floor. My free hand fumbled for my cellphone. A quick check revealed that I did, in fact, have a signal. It took a second to speed dial the Detective.

In my ear, the sounds of metal-on-metal continued. N-Synner-8 had apparently closed rank and was engaging Tony hand-to-hand. Hearing the sounds of combat, the warning beeps of Tony's monitor, made me worry for his life.

Rather funny that I would feel that way about this Tony. Especially since I considered him responsible for what happened to my Tony.

"Speak to me." It was Detective Melcowitz.

"We're ready,"I responded and shut down the signal. The phone was going to be useless in a minute anyway. Once the LAPD triggered the EMP pulse, the only electronics that would work were Tony's, which he had shielded in anticipation, and my comm-link.

Behind me there was a rumbling noise, like a truck or a train approaching. I turned, gun at the ready.

It seemed that 'Shocker-Wave' had taken my comments about lightweights to heart. The contestant rumbling toward me on treaded boots like rollerblades gone mad in all likelihood counted as a heavyweight. This boy was covered almost completely in plate armor painted with a military camoflauge pattern and sported a spiked glove on one hand and an impossibly large gun on the other. He lowered the gun barrel at me, and I could see the laser sight reflecting off my facemask.

"You ain't going nowhere, girlie…not if Romper Stomper has anything to say about it."

_Where do they find these names?_ I thought and dove towards my new opponent, pistol blazing. My goal was to slip between the boy's legs; with Melcowitz ready to detonate, it was just a matter of buying myself time.

My bullets _spanged_ across the chest of Romper Stomper. I twisted in the air and barely squeezed through the space provided. Romper Stomper roared as the thumping techno baseline went dead.

Along with the lights. And Romper Stomper's Operating Systems. And my holographic projector. The EMP had hit home.

When I rose to my feet, I tore at the appliances that gave my face the shape and contours of Suzi Endo's. I wondered if Romper Stomper's jaw was open at seeing a woman in black leather and gold, a mask of precious metal hiding her face from the world where a cute Asian girl had been. I aimed my gun firmly at the spot above the boy's eyes.

"Assaulting a guest with powered armor. That can't be good."

I figured it would only be a moment or two before Tony finished off N-Synner-8 and joined me here to wait for the police. This little mission of mercy was over in my mind.

My belief in this being the end of 'Armor Wars' was shattered by a sound like the Earth cracking open. I was thrown off my feet by flying debris as the floor behind me was smashed open.

N-Synner-8 had his hands around Tony's neck as the two flew upwards. Both combatants were covered in dust and grime.

"You think I'm stupid, Iron Man? You think I wouldn't ask the Baintronics staff to shield this armor from an electromagnetic pulse?"he screamed. The two dueling knights slammed into the ceiling. The sound of falling plaster and cracking stone caused my heart to jump.

Tony lifted up his legs and fired his boot jets. Braced as he was against the ceiling, N-Synner-8 went flying hard back through the hole they made in the floor. "No harm in hoping,"he said as he raised his arms and fired his pulse bolt array. I had no idea how close the boy was, but I figured it was going to hurt; as they were designed, the pulse bolts got more powerful the further away they were fired.

A large chunk of masonry flew out of the hole and smashed against Tony's breastplate. I ran closer to the combat zone, gun at the ready, looking for an opening to help the man who was pledged to help me. Twin golden beams shot out of the hole in the floor and hit Tony, slamming him against the ceiling before he could recover further.

"Hey, I know how to play like that, old man,"N-Synner-8 sneered. He emerged from the hole. "Your own repulsors were one of the first devices I tinkered with."

He fired again, only to be met with two beams of Tony's devising. Tony moved, positioning himself away from the ceiling, the back and forth of the interplay between the beams driving him slowly backwards. I approached carefully, my mind working out trajectories and angles, trying to figure out a way to buy Tony some time. I kept saying to myself it was because Tony promised to help me, not because…

Not because I might be learning to care for him.

"Whitney!"Tony subvocalized over our comm-link.

"Yes?"

"I need your gun." His voice sounded pained, like he was hissing his request through gritted teeth.

"My gun…but…"

"Please, Whitney."

Beyond the door onto the dance floor of Holowood, I heard the sound of the Metahuman Task Force Team arriving, ordering those still inside to freeze. I took a deep breath to saturate my lungs. "Fine."

I ran towards Tony and briefly grasped his back. In a moment I had launched myself up and over him, tumbling end over end and dropping my pistol. Tony shut down his own barrage to grab the gun, and was slammed by N-Synner-8 for his troubles. Over the comm-link, I heard more warning sirens; the boy may have been an amateur, but he had done some damage.

Not even thinking, I continued moving, lighting down on the edge of the hole in the floor for only a second so I could springboard myself to the near wall. I tumbled and sprang, moving closer to the boy and drawing his fire. I was always a step ahead; luckily, it seemed Tony had done some damage as well.

In seconds I had found myself behind him, using the momentum of my leap to snap mare him out of position. I heard Tony's boot jets roar until he was almost on top of N-Synner-8. The boy instinctively raised his arms—

And Tony fired the gun.

The bullet went into the damaged opening for N-Synner-8's flame projectors. As Tony grabbed me and flew down the corridor and through the far wall into the street, I swore I heard the boy mutter,"Oh shi--"

The explosion wasn't exactly action movie impressive; it barely was a flash of light. But it certainly was noisy.

"What is it about my enemies and highly flammable liquids these days?"he asked me.

Terry looked a little worse for wear, with minor burns along his hands and face. The armor, as Tony guessed, was able to protect him from the worst.

Which was more than could be said for Alex Northern.

The boy glared at us as he heard the tape Tony had made. I was wearing the face of Meredith MacCall—I figured she had the proper look of the professional about her that I could pass as a lawyer.

"So…it's my word against his,"the boy sneered.

Melcowitz chuckled. "I don't think so. Ryan had an attack of conscience last night."

It was an attack I organized by arranging for some Maggia soldiers already in the temporary holding facilities to 'talk' to him.

"And since you admitted to using my technology in your armor,"Tony added,"You will be hearing from my lawyer. Something about patent infringement."

Terry looked up at Tony with hate flashing in his eyes. "You didn't patent your tech, old man."

Tony smiled and reached into his jacket pocket. "Not initially, no. But after I had some problem with criminals using my designs in their own armor, I corrected that." He slammed 

down a blue and white document. "In other words, Terry Newcomb, I'm suing you and all of the masterminds behind 'Armor Wars.' Consider yourself served."

Terry was quiet after that.

I stood with Tony at the small clapboard house, feeling very out of place. The world was sunny and bright and silent save for the singing of birds and the sounds of cars passing in the street. The errand we were on demanded gray skies and thunder and rain. "I don't know if this is a good idea."

Tony rang the bell. "I have to do this."

We waited for a minute before we heard footsteps on the other side of the door. There was the hasp of a chain lock being undone and a woman in her late 30's emerged from the house. Her hair was beginning to be shot through with gray. I wondered how much of that gray had been earned in the last few weeks. "Yes?"

Tony did not extend his hand. He seemed ill at ease, as if he wasn't sure what to do. "Mrs. Northern, I'm Tony Stark. I wanted to meet with you to let you know the boys who murdered your son…well, they've been taken care of."

"I know,"Mrs. Northern replied. I watched her eyes, which were a cloudy brown. I recognized that level of deadness in her gaze.

"And I want you to know that any expenses you may have had—"

"Funeral expenses, you mean." I did not like the tone of her voice.

"Ahhhh…yes, funeral expenses. Well, Stark Solutions will take care of them. And I will be working with the LAPD to close down the sporting events that caused your son's—"

"Why did you do it?"the mother of Alex Northern asked out of the blue.

Tony paused. "Pardon?"

"Make those machines. The sort of thing that caused my son's death. Why did you build them?"

"I just wanted…"Tony started to say, then paused again. He took my arm slowly, and I could see how he deflated a bit.

"I'm trying to find that out myself, Mrs. Northern,"he said finally before turning away and heading for his car.


	22. The Relic

Iron Man

Chapter 22: The Relic

It was not easy, bringing the relic to the Seattle labs of Omnus Technologies.

It required the sort of equipment that was rare in the frigid fjords of Norway. The Baron had to make arrangements with the Omnus Board of Directors to make such equipment available to them. Omnus, having an ulterior motive the Baron heartily approved of in the digging up of the relic, assigned them the materials without question.

The actual removal of the relic from its resting place took two days of slow, painstaking work. In some cases, it took an hour to move the object a few feet.

That was the price you paid when you could not, in any way, shape or form, come near the relic. If one of the workers got close enough, the worker would cease to be, and the relic would be unleashed. If that happened, the whole purpose for Omnus to possess it was a moot point.

But the relic was removed from its resting place by robotic hands. Robotic hands encased the relic in a thick plastic observation case that would allow readings to be taken while keeping humanity safe. Robotic Hands lifted the relic up into the air transport operated by computerized autopilots.

It would be several days before the relic was in the same room with a human being. And that human being would call Tony Stark.

Scott Lang looked over Tony's shoulder at the CAD mock-up on the monitor. "You're telling me…."

"This alloy is infused with microparticulate biomatter. Theoretically, the biomatter interacts in such a way with the alloy that it will be malleable to a greater degree than any raw material I used in my previous armor."

"So," Scott said carefully,"It's going to be alive."

Tony continued running the simulation, looking at the mock-up from every angle. "Well, not in the sense you're thinking of it as alive—but it will be able to utilize the DNA 'map' to reknit minor breaks in the armor. As long as the material hasn't been destroyed, it can restore structural integrity."

"That is just insane."

"The world is getting faster, my friend," Tony replied as he tapped at the keys. Circuitry schematics were overlaid on the CAD design. "The track from cutting edge to obsolence is getting faster and faster. Hmmm….very interesting circuit designs, Scott."'

"Thank you." It was hard for Scott to hide the pride he felt. Tony consulted his watch.

"I have a meeting with a new client," he told Scott. "Keep working on the cybernetic mesh, and I'll check in once I'm done. And if you need anything, call Mrs. A."

"I will. Who's the client?"

"A new start-up called Omnus. Specializes in cybernetics."

Scott chuckles. "My, isn't that fortunate."

"Isn't it, though?" Tony clapped Tony on the shoulder. "I'll check in when I get back.

Happy stood in the shadows of the doorway leading to Tony Stark's personal gym and watched the woman work out.

She was not hiding behind disguises as she went through a pommel horse routine. Her black leotard emphasized the fitness and athletic nature of her body, from her long, long legs to her muscular-without-losing-femininity arms. Her body shone with the sweat of her workout, and her breathing filled the room.

If it wasn't for the golden mask, Happy would not have believed that this was Masque.

The other night, after Tony and Masque had been out to a coffee shop to talk, she explained to Happy, Pepper and the others her situation. Happy had no problem accepting that Masque was an actual Whitney Frost from another dimension; Pepper had been kidnapped and tortured by a version of Tony Stark from another dimension not long ago.

But there were other things he wouldn't accept. Things he needed to get off his chest.

With a final economy of movement, Masque dismounted and headed for a pegboard where she had hung a towel. As she was wiping herself down, Happy emerged from his hiding place. "Ms. Frost."

The woman looked up. Happy was once again struck by how much she looked like Madame Masque, the woman that arguably was one of Tony's greatest loves. "Mr. Hogan…I'm sorry, I did not notice you."

"That's alright." Happy stood, feeling foolish as he gathered up the right words. "Look, I needed to say something to you, so I'd appreciate it if you'd listen for a moment."

"You could have told me at any time, Mr. Hogan. I'm not as inaccessible as my predecessor apparently was. At least not now."

Happy shook his head. He was very much aware of the woman's body, of the way it seemed to entice his attention. "Nyah. I needed to tell you this in private. I'll only be a moment, and I'm gone."

"Certainly."

"Look, I'm not all that good with words," Happy said with a sigh. "But I do know that I'd do anything for Mr. Stark. He's, like, the best friend I ever had in the world, and like I can't count the number of times he pulled my fat out of the fire. The Whitney on this world, well, you know, she was real close to Tony—he even ran away from his responsibilities to be with her for a while. When she turned on him, well, it shattered his world."

Masque stood there, arms folded over her chest. She nodded once.

"I know you two have been spending a lot of time together, and I like to think it's for, you know, to help you cure your condition. That's the kind of guy Tony is, tossing his own happiness out the door to help someone else.

"But you know, the other people who came through from your dimension, they nearly killed my wi—my ex-wife. It took a long time for us to get her normal again." Happy looked Masque directly in the eye. "And I'm thinking maybe you might be planning on doing something like that to Tony. If you are, don't. Because I swear to you, if you do, I'm gonna kill you."

"Not that I am planning on hurting Mr. Stark," Masque said carefully. "But many men have tried."

"I'm not gonna try, Ms. Frost. You hurt him, I'm just gonna."

"So what can you tell me about Omnus Technologies, Jocie?" Tony asked as he eased his car off the Highway.

Jocasta, the android former Avenger whose 'secret identity' was Tony's aide de camp Jocie Arborgast, made a show of consulting her PDA. In point of fact, she was accessing her own files at the offices of Stark Solutions via an internal modem. "It's a new start-up that rose out of the ashes of three boutique firms that collapsed in the economic downturn. Their stated goal is to better the quality of life of the disabled through a greater understanding of the man-machine interface. Their initial products have been prosthetic limbs with a highly sensitive neural net that allows for greater control from the user and a very limited experience of sensation."

"Very impressive." Tony couldn't help but smiling. When he started Stark Solutions, his goal was to use his genius to make a positive impact on the world. It seemed that Omnus had much the same goal.

"Well, Tony…their stated goal is to enable Christopher Reeves to walk, so they've got ambition." Jocasta put the PDA into her purse.

Tony drove up to the office park where Omnus had its corporate offices. "Ambition, tempered by compassion, is a good thing."

"My, my, Tony…are we on the 'absolute power' track?" Jocasta asked with a hint of mirth to her voice.

"It's always a concern, Jocie." Tony handed the parking attendant his ID and waited for the man to wave him through. "I'd like you to keep your eyes and ears open. It's always these corporations built on the back of others that makes me suspicious."

"You've spent too much time cast in iron, Tony."

"With good reason," Tony replied. "With good reason."

After finding a parking space, the two were surprised to discover a tall, powerfully built man dressed in a single-breasted grey suit over a black banded collar shirt waiting for them at the curb. The man had decidedly Asian features, although his hair coloring was very pale. He walked up to Tony, hand extended.

"I apologize for this unseemly behavior, Mr. Stark," the man said. "But I wanted to greet you personally. My name is Satsujin Moomji. Welcome to Omnus Technologies."

Jack Hart sat in his laboratory and ruminated on possible strategies. Around him, strangely colored mists drifted along the floor. This was the product of a machine Tony had had shipped to his home from the New York offices of Stark/Fujikawa; the vapors produced by its chemical reactions allowed Jack to shed the antique armor that contained his Zero Fuel-infused body and live like a normal man.

Thanks to Tony's connections with the Avengers, Jack had access to the finest space-borne sensor equipment. He was presently examining readings downloaded from a probe that was heading toward Alpha Centauri. The most recent pictures the probe sent featured some very small lights that hadn't been there the day before.

Jack recognized the configuration of the lights for what they were. He had spent enough time as the 'guest' of the person behind them.

It was not an experience he was looking forward to repeating.

He pushed his chair over to the computer that oversaw the spectroanalysis. He tapped at the keyboard, looking for imperfections that could be exploited when the armada got within striking distance. With three separate races—one actually from the future—involved, there were a frightening number of variables.

"What I need," he said to himself,"is a damn good chemist."

"..and a physicist…"

"…and a xenobiologist…"

Tony and Jocasta followed Satsujin and his right hand man down the corridors of Omnus. Jocasta had noticed an odd look on Tony's face throughout the tour, as if he had seen a ghost. It was very disconcerning to the android.

"…mind/body transferrence is just one of the avenues we are pursuing in this project. When I founded Omnus utilizing monies left me by my father, I decided that ours would not be a company hidebound by a narrow set of choices. We have very clear goals in mind for each project; it is only fair that we leave ourselves open to possibilities that might be considered unorthodox, even bizarre—but within the realm of extreme plausibility."

"And how did you come to approach Mr. Stark?" Jocasta asked after a pause that went on longer than she felt comfortable.

Satsujin graced them with a smile that never reached his cold, steely eyes. "Ahh, finally the questions we anticipated start to come out. Mr. Webster here, my vice president of research and development remembered that you actually had some experience with remote sending. One of your many Iron Man armors was controlled by some form of—what did they call it, Webster?"

"Telepresence," offered the overweight, perpetually sweaty man at Moomji's side.

"I see," Tony said.

"My feeling was that you could apply your own experience with telepresence technology to the relic in question and come up with some working theorms on how we can move forward," Satsujin said.

"I've set up a private office for you while you're here, Mr. Stark," Webster added. "I could also set up a spot in the secretarial pool for your assistant to work from if you need her on-site."

They turned a corner into the corridor that linked the corporate offices with the R&D 'Suites.' "We've already gone over your fees with your Ms. Potts, and Omnus finds them acceptable. If we can reach an agreement, you can start work tomorrow."

Jocasta felt a muzziness come over her as she walked further along the corridor. It became harder for her to think. "If-if I may speak for Mr. Stark, this is the sort of project Stark Solutions was set up for."

"Another reason why we thought of you," Webster replied.

Jocasta rubbed her temples. There was a little shock of fear running through her; this was the first time she experienced such problems with the new body Tony had made for her. "Of course, we'll have to work out the patent ownerships depending on…"

Tony looked at Jocasta and frowned. He then abruptly turned to Satsujin and said,"Pardon me for what may prove to be an irrationally made assumption, Mr. Moomji, but I can't help but think—"

Satsujin laughed, a deep throaty chuckle that once again seemed to never reach the rest of his face. "I was anticipating this question as well, Mr. Stark. You wonder if I have any connection to a former flame of yours, yes?"

"Indries Moomji, yes."

Satsujin Moomji nodded. "Well, in this case, your suspicions are correct. I am related to Indreis. She is my…distant cousin. Which leads me to another reason I wished to work with you, Mr. Stark—an attempt to, shall we say, make ammends for what she did to you?"

Through the increasing red haze that was growing in her head, Jocasta detected a spike in the otherwise rock solid Satsujin's heartbeat. _He's lying,_ she thought to herself. _If only I could focus…_

"Tony…I don't feel so good," Jocasta mumured in a faint voice before fainting.

What was she doing here?

Pepper asked herself that for the fifth time as she chased the last of her endive salad around the plate. It was one of those rare sunny days in Seattle, and she and her lunch date had chosen to eat in a sidewalk café off the Market. The food was good, the iced chai she ordered with it exquisite in its sweet-and-spicy flavor, the air had just the right touch of after rain ozone to it and the company…

What was she doing here?

She had dated a co-worker once before, married him even, and it ultimately turned into a disaster. After they had left Tony's employ to start a life of their own, Pepper and Happy Hogan soon found disatisfaction creeping in. Pepper sometimes wondered if one of the reasons they did fall apart was because without Tony they didn't have much in common. Both of them had deep, personal ties with the industrialist and were comfortable in his world, and without Tony as glue it all came undone.

There was no doubt in her mind that dating co-workers was a mistake and a half.

Then why was she here having lunch with Scott Lang? And enjoying herself?

He was a good-looking man, shy, self-affacing (something that appealed to her in Happy when they first started dating) and responsible—after all, he was successfully raising a young daughter in spite of having to move several times in search of work. He was also very smart, smart enough that Tony seemed to speak to him with a great deal of respect in his voice. Scott Lang had a lot going for him.

So why did he have to be a co-worker?

"So after Onslaught, it became very clear to me how dangerous a place New York was to raise a child in. I still had a large stake from my consultancy work with Fantastic Four Inc., so I used it to relocate to Renondo Beach and start anew. Before I know it, you guys are calling me to help design the armor for the--"

Pepper reached over and put a quieting finger against Scott's lips. "Shhhhhh….not in public."

Scott's eyes widened before he chuckled. "Yeah, of course…I wasn't thinking."

The two returned their attention briefly to the meals before Pepper said, hesitantly,"I'm really enjoying myself."

Scott smiled. "Me, too. Maybe you'd like—"

Pepper's cell phone interrupted Scott's train of thought. She flipped it open and brought it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Pepper, it's Tony. Is anyone with you?" came the voice on the other end.

Pepper looked to Scott and smiled sheepishly, the sort of gesture that said, _What can you do?_ "Just Scott. We were just finishing lunch."

"Good," Tony replied. "I need you to drive out to Omnus Technologies and pick up Jocie. She's…fallen ill." The worry in his voice was palatable.

"Fallen ill…but Tony, she's never been sick a day in her life." Pepper knew that it was a 'little white lie'; Jocasta hadn't been ill a day in her life because she was an artificial lifeform.

"I know, but she collapsed on me during our tour of the facilities. Take her home and we'll figure out what happened later."

"Of course," Pepper replied before hanging up. She rose from her seat and touched Scott's hand. "I'm sorry, Scott but duty calls. I'll make this up to you?"

"Don't have to do that unless you want to, Pep," Scott told her, somehow knowing that the look on her face made it very clear she did want to.

"You have got to be _insane_."

Tony looked over the high-tech plastic coffin that was the centerpiece of the lab set-up at Omnus. The thick polymer walls were surrounded by a number of robotic limbs to manipulate and test it, and the mechanisms involved in operating them were encased in another, larger case. Tony had to study it from a distance, for only from a distance would the specimen be safe to work with.

Tony had never seen the specimen outside of the Avengers files before, but he was aware of its reputation. But the banded steel that made up its massive body, coupled with the mask that looked improbably like one worn by a Japanese Kendo student was unmistakable. He turned to face Satsujin and did his best to keep his cool.

"You are aware that that is the Destroyer?"

"It had been pointed out to us as we went about acquiring it, yes," Satsujin replied. His arms were crossed and for the first time, the faint smirk on his face seemed genuine.

"That thing is a dangerous, uncontrolled weapon devoted only to destruction. Surely you heard what happened in New York City last year…"

**The Destroyer mixed it up with Thor in Volume 2, Number 1 of the Marvel Series.**

"We are aware of the dangers inherent in possessing the Destroyer armor, Mr. Stark," Webster confirmed. "That is why we have taken extraordinary measures to make sure no human hands come near it."

"As the earliest known example of a mind transference vessel," Satsujin added,"it would be a sin for us not to study it. The secret you and I need to make people with no motor abilities whatsoever walk again could be locked within it."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Moomji. While I believe you had the best of intentions in bringing this here, you must believe me when I say the danger of it escaping is to great. This is an object that came within a hair shy of killing Thor on a number of occaisons—"

"We'll double your fee."

"There's no amount of money that would get me to agree to this," Tony admitted. "You want to do a service to the world? Then fill this lab from floor to ceiling with steel-reinforced cement and forget it even exists. You're playing with fire here, Mr. Moomji, and it's only a matter of time before someone gets burned."

"Think of what we can learn, Mr. Stark," Webster said, mopping his brow with a tissue.

"Think of the disaster that will happen if that thing gets out," Tony shot back. "At least you should have talked to the City, warned them, let them take precautions before bringing it here…"

"I think you're over-reacting, Mr. Stark," Satsujin stated simply.

"And I think," Tony Stark retorted,"that your confidence will prove to be your downfall. Good day, gentlemen."

Tony went through the diagnostic one more time. Jocasta floated in a cannister of restorative fluids, cables attached to various junctures. A thinner cable, copper in color, was attached to the base of her neck, allowing her to communicate to Tony through the laboratory mainframe. She had thrown off disguise as Jocie Arborgast and now was revealed as a thing of silvery beauty with red slits for eyes. Tony reflected that she looked at that moment like a high-tech mermaid.

"I've detected some slight degrading of the telemorphic regulator, Jocie," he told his friend and ally, referring to the control mechanism that allowed her to change her appearance. "The nanites in the solution are already working to repair it. You should be good as new in three hours time."

"I'm sorry for breaking down like that, Tony." Jocasta's voice came from the speakers all at once. Tony chuckled; it was just like old times. "I don't know what happened to me."

"Right now, neither do I," Tony admitted. "At least not until I run more diagnostics. But it only confirms what I feel about Omnus Technologies."

"I have to admit, Tony, that Mr. Moomji had a point about studying the Destroyer. As Arthur Clarke is fond of saying, magic is nothing more than science so highly advanced we cannot comprehend its working. If we could crack the codes that make the Destroyer operate…"

Tony sighed and reached for his cup of coffee. He watched his friend's body floating in the tank. "What he did was irresponsible, Jocie. And besides, I do not trust him."

"How so?" Jocasta asked.

"He had knowledge of the telepresence armor, which I kept a secret during the time I was using it. It makes me think that Mr. Moomji has knowledge about me he shouldn't have. And there's that Mr. Webster of his."

"He seemed harmless enough," Jocasta said.

"I would think so too, if it weren't for a 'Dr. Webster' showing up in my investigation into the Whitney killings. Something is going on beyond building better prosthetics, Jocie.

**--see IRON MAN (av2K version) #16**

"There's something odd going on in there. And I aim to find out what."

Brian Webster had always been loyal to Satsujin Moomji, a loyalty borne out of Webster's own feeling of inadequecy.

Brian Webster was a third-rate executive whose had dive-bombed faster than a Luftwaffe strike on Britian. He was already being treated as an outcast even before he tried to raise some quick marketing capital by selling some illegal substances to shadowy people with shadowy pasts. And when those shadowy people tried to double cross him, there was nothing he could do.

The truth was, Satsujin Moomji came across Brian Webster when he needed a patsy and a lap dog. And Brian was just inept enough to fulfill both roles admirably.

So when Brian woke up from his afternoon nap (he always took a nap in one of the air-conditioned 'corporate living quarters' Omnus had on site for those working late into the night) in the room that housed the Destroyer, his first thought was pretty accurate.

Namely that he had been screwed again for his inadequecies.

He scrabbled away from the massive suit of armor and shrieked. "What's going on?"

"Consider this a lateral promotion," Satsujin Moomji's cold monotone said over the speakers.

Brian got to his feet and started hammering at the nearest door into the inner chamber. "Get me out of here."

"Brian, Brian," Satsujin continued. "I need the data contained within the Destroyer armor. I had hoped Stark would play ball, but he wasn't man enough. It's up to you to take one for the company."

In a split second, Brian Webster had one of the clearest, truest thoughts in his life. He looked around and said,"You're nuts."

Satsujin chuckled over the monitors. "I suppose I am. But then, being artificially aged out of a childhood might do that to a person." A robot limb rapidly unfolded itself from the ceiling and grasped Brian's wrist. "Now I expect you to do what you've always done and follow orders. I've already notified my Chessman and they've got an entire portable laboratory ready to analyse what happens to you."

"Let go! Please, Mr. Moomji! I've been good! I've been loyal!"

And the robot limb kept dragging Brian toward the steel grey armor.

Until the armor stirred.


	23. Wild In The Streets

Iron Man

Chapter 23: Wild In The Streets

Funny thing about the super hero community:

They tend to swarm.

Until recently, the supers tended to cluster in New York and Los Angeles. At one time, it seemed you couldn't walk the streets of Manhattan without stumbling over an Avenger or Defender or X-Man out on his evening patrol. There were stray anomalies--that year when Daredevil and the Black Widow started busting muggers in San Francisco or the times when both Thor and Luke Cage operated out of Chicago--but until fairly recently you had to be a New Yorker or a Los Angelenos to truly experience an encounter with an honest-to-God-live-wire super-hero.

The upshot of this concentration in the metahuman community is that many cities do not have insurance against meta-crime. There are no regional rivals to New York's famed Damage Control, and that august institution is only just now starting to open up satellite offices in other cities. Their Seattle satellite office stands as just a floor of the Starbucks building and some high priced telecommunications equipment.

The heavy-duty machines haven't been shipped yet from the Midwest factories. The safety uniforms that allow Damage Control to operate under the most hazardous situations are only now being shipped from a warehouse in Union, New Jersey.

Which makes it all the more pity that all that equipment will be needed today.

What's it like to have your soul sucked into an ancient killing machine?

Brian Webster couldn't even tell you.

Brian Webster is still in shock from that moment of transference, that split second after his boss Satsujin Moomji locked him in with the relic to see how it operated. He is hardly aware of the fact that his new body is slouching toward Seattle's main drag, or the pure destructive power seething within the carapace that is his new body. Brian Webster is too busy screaming on the inside to consider the possibilities.

A car speeds at Brian Webster's new body, a foreign luxury number usually used as a status symbol by the idly wealthy of the area. When the Destroyer turns to face the vehicle and drives its massive fist through the engine block, the front crumpling around its form like paper being sliced in half by a straight razor, it is not Brian in control. Nor is it Brian in control of the Destroyer when the metallic monster lifts the car in one hand and flings it like a missile into the side of a short, squat office building across the street. If it were Brian in control, he would worry about who or what may be on the other side of the wall that crumbled like paper upon the vehicle's impact. He'd worry about the rubble hitting the ground and breaking into shards of stone shrapnel.

But he is not in control of his new body, so all Brian Webster can do is come along as the massive gray monstrosity moves closer to the city.

Tony's fingers flashed over the keys of his terminal. He was in the rhythm of the moment, searching for the information he needed. Behind him, in a vat of restorative fluid, his friend Jocasta floated as vital positronic circuits were slowly brought to full capacity. Wires and cables were attached at various junctures in her body, allowing Jocasta to access the Stark Solutions mainframe and communicate with Tony. In the background, soft music played to relax him.

"And the evidence continues to mount against our friend Satsujin," Tony told his friend as he leaned back in his chair.

"What have you found?" Jocasta's voice came from the speakers surrounding the workshop; her vocalization software was temporarily wired into hard drive proper.

"What haven't I found is more like it," Tony replied. "There is no record of a cousin to the family of Indries Moomji, distant or otherwise, that matches the age Satsujin appears to be."

"I am not surprised, Tony."

"Nor am I, really." He called up another screen. "Satsujin, you'll notice, doesn't have much of family resemblance. And considering the pedigree from which he comes from--"

"Pedigree?"

Tony scrolled down the screen. He looked over his shoulder at Jocasta. "I had broken up with Bethany Cabe, a woman I really thought was going to be my lifemate. I had only just recognized my problem with alcohol recently, and my sober life was still new. Indries came into my life during this precarious time and, I learned later, enabled my relapse into alcoholism at the behest of a man named Obediah Stane."

"And you think like calls to like?" Jocasta asked.

"It's just too many coincidences," Tony admitted. "I guarantee you, Jo--Omnus Technologies has now guaranteed my continued interest in their affairs."

The intercom chirped. Pepper Hogan's voice came over the speakers. "There's a Ms. Celeste for you on line three, boss."

Tony smiled, the seriousness of his efforts suddenly forgotten. "Put her through."

"Karyn Celeste?" Jocasta asked, not bothering to hide her mirth. "So the ballet went well?"

"You could say that."

"Tony?", came a voice from the intercom.

"Good morning, Karyn. Did you get the cake I sent you?" Tony asked.

"Cake?" Jocasta asked. Tony looked over his shoulder and gave his friend a playfully stern look.

"Yeah, I did get that. Looks yummy," Karyn replied with a laugh. "I was wondering, though, if you expected to join me in eating it--maybe with some champagne and a nice foie gras?"

"Doesn't sound bad at all," Tony said. "Let's say around seven-ish?"

"Make it eight," the woman replied. "I have an overseas conference call and I don?t want to rush it too much."

"You torture me, Karyn."

"She's beginning to torture me as well, Tony," Jocasta drawled. To see Tony relax like he was on the phone right now was pretty surprising to the android...and it caused her no end of delight.

"Shhhh!"

"Telling me to quiet, are you?"

"Not you, Karyn--my lab assistant." Tony made a face in Jocasta's general direction. "But as much as I'd like to continue, I do have to go back to some experiments. I'll see you then."

"Gotcha," the woman said before hanging up.

A curious buzzing came from the speakers that could be construed as humming. "My, Tony. I must say I haven't seen you like this with a woman since--well, I don't think I've ever seen you like this."

Tony turned his attentions back to the monitors. He adjusted the electron flow on one of the valve feeding energy to the nanotech reconstructing Jocasta's circuitry. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Jocie. It was only one date so far."

"A date that's leading to cake and champagne," Jocasta teased.

The intercom chirped again. Tony sighed and said, "I swear, if this is Karyn--"

"Bite your tongue, Mr. Stark," came the sarcastic, sober tone of Tony's office manager, Mrs. Arborgast. "I have a Detective Plexico in the foyer asking for Iron Man and waving about an order to evacuate."

That took Tony aback. "What the...Iron Man will be right down."

The Seattle Police Department has had roughly a year and a half to get used to the immediate upswing in metacrime that followed in the wake of the relocation of Iron Man, Warbird and 

others. They've seen the catalogs from the people who developed the ordnance for New York City's Code Blue. They've purchased some of the items depicted within and the training to best use them.

Some of this hardware--sonic rams, a rail gun and a shaped plasma thrower--is set up at the mouth of a small municipal park in the path of the Destroyer. The call has gone out to evacuate the areas that the marauding creature is estimated to hit if he continues on his present vector. A detective who has worked with Tony Stark and Iron Man in the past has been dispatched to retrieve the armored Avenger to assist them.

The SWAT division has chosen this park on this street to set up the first line of defense because the warehouses around them are only sparsely populated and as such are easily evacuated. The eireeness of the quiet surrounding the cadre of police officers is getting under their skin.

When the Destroyer makes its appearance, its footfalls causing the ground to tremble, the team goes into action. Special shot made of pig iron and slag from Pennsylvania is loaded into the rail gun's cartridge and fired at an unimaginable velocity straight at the Destroyer. A volley of plasma pulses, shaped into a cone by magnetic gasses, is released.

The Destroyer bats the first of the shot away as if annoyed. Compressed, magnetically accelerated steel rips through the supporting wall of an abandoned Taco Bell, causing one side of the building to collapse. Plasma cones bursts against the carapace of the monstrosity, scattering white-hot energy that sears and ignites the buildings surrounding it.

The SWAT team starts to scatter, leaving the two-man squad maintaining the sonic ram to hammer at the armored creature with waves of tight-beamed harmonics. They do almost nothing.

The families of those two remaining SWAT team members will have to identify the bodies by their teeth.

Detective Plexico watched the middle aged woman calmly go about her business and fumed. He held up the order to evacuate for the fifth time. "Lady, you've seen this is official. Get the Hell out of here."

The woman adjusted her glasses and stared down her nose at him. "No thank you. I have served Tony Stark off and on for years. Until he tells me otherwise, I am staying."

The sound of boot jets outside interrupted the conversation. The woman calmly opened the right pane to let Iron Man in, muttering under her breath, "Wouldn't hurt you to use a door, Mr. High-and-Mighty Avenger."

"Hey, Tin-Man," Plexico said grimly. "Can you tell that harpy to get out of here."

"Better a harpy than a poster boy for 1970's macho," the woman shot back with the sweetest smile.

Iron Man turned to the woman. "Mrs. Arborgast, Mr. Stark asked me to tell you should evacuate the civilians."

It was as if a different person suddenly appeared in her place. Snapping to with a military salute, she said, "I'm on it."

After making sure Mrs. Arborgast was heading off to her task, the golden Avenger turned his attention fully on the Detective. "You wanted to see me, officer?"

"We need your help bad, Tin-Man," Plexico said. "We've got some sort of robot or something ripping up Seattle. Here's a surveillance photo."

After taking the photo, Iron Man gasped. "Those idiots."

"Pardon?"

"Mr. Stark and his assistant had visited a new concern called Omnus technologies earlier today. They were experimenting on this automaton. It's called the Destroyer; it's very ancient, and it's near unstoppable."

Plexico sighed in exasperation. "And you're good for the city _how_, again?"

"Look, Detective," Iron Man said as he handed back the photo. "You better join Mrs. A and my other employees in evacuating the area. This thing is literally unstoppable by anyone less than Thor. My associates and I will try my best to handle it."

"You better, Tin-man. I've grown awful attached to this city."

"As have I, Detective."

The Destroyer continues to make its way through the park, uprooting vegetation and municipal buildings with equal ease. The air around the park has been fouled with stone dust and raw sewage being pushed up from broken pipes.

Behind it at a safe distance, their presence being cloaked by the smaller of their number, are three personages. There's a decided chess motif in their armor, from the uniform jet color to the strange markings like the ramparts of a castle that run along the limbs of the largest of the three. All of them carry equipment as high-tech as their armor, and do so awkwardly.

"Do we have to use those stupid code-names?" asked the largest one. "I mean, Jeez--Rook. What the hell is a rook?"

"Shut up," admonishes one whose helmet looks like a stylized miter. He adjusts a dial on his piece of equipment, a device so large it is lashed to his waist. "The boss says we gotta take these readings as laughing boy goes nutzoid, we take them."

"You think the boss is a little nuts, Bishop?" asks the third, who sits astride a peculiarly designed mechanical horse.

"I think the boss knows how to pay us," the man in the mitered armor replies.

"Jeez--hey guys, it seems Finster has company."

All eyes are directed to a blue figure that is (there's no other way to put it) rocketing towards the Destroyer on ruby red trails of energy.

"S#," the Bishop hisses.

Scott Lang and Masque followed the armored Tony into the area of his workshop he liked to call 'the skunkworks.' Within its walls were contained the various specialty armors Tony had devised over the years. Some of them had been used over and over again, some only once.

It was one of the latter that Tony headed for, a suit of armor he prayed he never had to use again.

"Does it check out, Scott?"

"Electronics are fully operable," Scott Lang replied.

The Golden Avenger stepped into the center of the cylindrical device that housed the armor in question. Robotic arms descended from the ceiling and started snapping the specialized armor into place with a series of hydraulic toggles.

Masque watched this with arms folded. "What is our assignment?"

"Stay here, Whitney. I need you as the last defense. At the very least, you can contact the Avengers West if Jack and I fold. Scott, if you can also try and get hold of Warbird?"

"Don't worry. I'm on it."

"I don?t like it," the former Maggia Princess sniffed.

Iron Man emerged from the device transformed. An exo-skeleton had been fitted over Tony's baseline armor, giving his silhouette a cruder form. Instead of a stylized, well-built human being, Iron Man stood like a human battering ram, with a blunted conical head, a massive torso and shoulders so wide they gave him an exaggerated 'v' shape. Large circular servomotors rode on his shoulder and hips that hissed quietly with each movement. The gauntlet of each hand sported a pad that extended to the elbow. "Whitney, no one respects your skills more than I. The only thing that will stop the Destroyer is brute force. Your efforts would just annoy him."

"So this armor will do the job."

"It took down the Hulk, didn?t it?" Tony asked as he made his way to the surface.

The Jack of Hearts lays down a volley of Zero-fuel blasts. The ruby energies hit home, spattering against the aged metallic hide.

The Destroyer does not seem phased.

"Comon', buddy," Jack says under his breath, banking to the left and using his energy streams to kick up a wave of dirt and dust. "Maybe I can choke up what stands in for gears."

The Destroyer moves forward through the dirt storm. His head swivels to settle on Jack's form. It grabs a tree, one of the taller in the park. With a single fluid motion, the tree is uprooted and the Destroyer swings it at Jack. Only a last minute directing of his Zero energy to act as a brake prevents Jack from going flying. The breath goes out of the young man, and agony blossoms along his rib cage.

Jack circles the armored enemy, bobbing and weaving to prevent the Destroyer from connecting. At one point he skims the ground close and knocks the feet out from under the creature, Jack himself a living missile.

The instructions are simple: chip away at its defenses if he can, lure it into the park and keep it from advancing.

The Destroyer continues waving the tree around, and it managed to get a couple of glancing blows off Jack's armor. For a while, Jack fears that the power of the repeated blows will crack open his carapace, releasing a flood of Zero energy that could destroy a large portion of the countryside. He begins splitting his blasts between the creature itself and the makeshift club it wields, cutting the weapon down to size so it's easier to stay out of its arc.

The Destroyer simply throws it full force at Jack. It hits him in the chest, driving him backwards and splintering on impact. Jack feels slivers of wood tear into his face, his lips. He screws his eyes tightly shut to prevent being blinding.

Somewhere during that time, Jack hears a whistling noise following by the sort of impact that causes the ground to shudder. He breathes a sigh of relief.

Iron Man has arrived.

The shadowy men and women seated in the dimly lit room, each one the head of a different Seattle technology firm, looked on at the television reports in dismay.

"This is unacceptable."

"Unacceptable."

"If this being continues on its rampage, the drain on municipal funds will be exorbitant. We will be expected to increase our contribution to the city's upkeep. Our own timetable will be hindered."

Ever since they had begun to band together for reasons unknown, the men and women gathered had gained a nickname whispered in the corridors of Seattle's power. They were the so-called "Captains of Industry,"

"The playing card man is on the scene; data indicates that Iron Man will follow him into battle."

"This Iron Man was one of the Avengers. If he is the equal of the ones who destroyed us?"

"This is unacceptable."

"Should we reveal ourselves to put down the being before it threatens us further?"

"No. That would only put our goals and ourselves at risk. We must accelerate the program. Absorb more patrons to increase our financial wealth and speed up the project. We will have our homeland again."

"Who will be our next target. Tony Stark?"

"No. He has Iron Man. We risk discovery if we get too close to an Avenger. I propose we concentrate on Satsujin Moomji."

Tony lands on the back of the Destroyer, the velocity of his fall driving it off its feet. Knowing that giving it a moment to recover would be fatal, he proceeds to hammer it with his fists. Each blow, the servomotors exponentially increasing the power behind it, causes the empty vessel to reverberate like a big bass drum. Jack lands nearby, ready to blast the creature if it throws his partner.

It is not that the Destroyer throws the enhanced Iron Man. It is more that it rises slowly, causing Iron Man to lose purchase. Before he falls, Tony activates the short-term boot jets; with the extra bulk of the improved Hulkbuster exo-armor, he cannot fly without draining reserves so he leaps off the monster, driving it to ground. The second Iron Man is clear, the Jack of Hearts is there, hammering at the monstrosity's head and shoulders with a double-fisted stream of zero energy. It does not cause the creature to step back; instead it advances slowly forward, shrugging off the impact of the beams.

Jack continues his barrage of energy as Iron Man plummets to earth, gyroscopes allowing him to maintain his upright position upon impact. Before a second has passed, the Golden Avenger charges, his own repulsor assailing the creature at its back while Jack hammers its front. Once Iron Man closes in, the blows start anew, his enhanced strength landing fists at the creature's neck and back. The sound of steel on eldritch metal ringing through the park begins to take on the quality of some form of tribal dance music.

The Destroyer manages to swivel its massive frame at the waist and shoots out one powerful arm, hitting Tony in the chest. He doubles over, and the creature brings its fist down at the base of the exo-skeleton's conical helmet. Jack increases his efforts to distract it, the zero fuel glancing off its hide. Tony manages to land an uppercut that makes the Destroyer stagger and gives him enough room to stand up. When he is upright, the Destroyer axe-handles him in the 

stomach and kicks out to push him away. Iron Man falls and repulsor rays flash out, hitting the creature in the face.

Tony is trying to stay into the zone. He knows that if the Destroyer defeats him and his partner, it will lay waste to his adopted hometown.

He knows that it he is alarmed by the way he is coughing up blood inside his helmet, it's all over.

The plane circled Sea-Tac for an hour. When the passengers asked for the reasoning behind the delay, they were told Seattle was suffering from 'a metahuman situation.'

Amongst the passengers was a woman in advanced middle aged, a handsome enough specimen with iron gray hair and large owlish glasses. She took the complimentary drink offered her graciously, even though her mind was elsewhere.

She contemplated a man she looked upon as a friend and patron, and the foolish thing she was asking her to do. She was thinking of ways to persuade her out of the operation he had hired her for. She wondered if this operation was the final piece of a puzzle she had been putting together ever since her friend had asked her to help Dr. Banner in his efforts to be rid of the Hulk.

Dr. Banner--it was a shame what happened to him. She had to chalk up her efforts there as a failure.

And Dr. Erica Sondheim wondered if Tony Stark was going to become another failure.

Tony keeps the repulsor blasts coming in a steady stream. They slow the Destroyer, but does not stop him. He slowly gets to his feet, very conscious of the way there's a stabbing pain when he moves a certain way, a pain that increases the more upright he stands.

Just as the Destroyer is upon him, Tony shuts down the repulsors and steps out of the creature's way. He slams both fists against its back, driving it into the small hillock ahead. The impact of the automaton slamming into the earth causes the ground to shake.

The Destroyer tries to get up, but Tony is upon it, fists flashing as he beats a tattoo on its chest. Jack is airborne once again, ready for an opening. Tony throws a right, and the Destroyer grabs his arm and twists violently.

Something snaps. Only Tony hears it, as the noise is covered by the base crack of heavy cables being destroyed in the armor.

Tony screams. He activates the bootjets to get away, and Jack is there, cutting at the base of the hillock with his blasts, bringing it down on the creature.

"You alright?" Jack asks, alarmed. He watches the bulked up Iron Man stumble, clutching an arm that dangles like a sack.

"Focus on...the Destroyer," Tony gasps through gritted teeth. Already the mini-avalanche is being pushed aside. The creature rises, hands balled into fists.

Jack continues his barrage, not letting up with the blasts. The Destroyer picks up one of the larger pieces of rubble around it and tosses it at his opponent. Jack goes flying into the wrought iron fence.

Before the creature can react further, Iron Man smashes into it, jet boots straining with the effort of moving so much tonnage. The impact lifts the Destroyer off its feet, and Tony presses his advantage, carrying his armored foe through the fence and across the street into the nearby office building. Glass and masonry bounce off the carapace of his armor, but he's not noticing. He's too busy using his chin toggle to redirect the servomotors into amplifying the strength of his one good hand.

Jack flies after as Tony smashes the creature with an uppercut. There are cracks forming in the Destroyer's shell, slowly but surely. "Jack--make sure this place is evacuated!" Tony cries out.

The effort of shoving the Destroyer into this building, the impact of its armor against his, has cracked more ribs. He can taste the coppery tang of his own blood flooding his mouth. His movements cause him to wince in agony. And yet Tony continues on, throwing everything he can at the Destroyer. Heavy office equipment gets batted away as if it was dandelion puffs. And every once in a while the creature lands another punch, and Tony can feel his insides liquefying.

Structural Damage imminent. Weapons Systems Operating at 78 power efficiency the overhead reads out.

"Just a little longer," Tony whispers weakly as he blocks another blow from the Destroyer with his good arm. He feels a new pain shooting up from his forearm. The edges of his vision dim.

Trying hard not to think about what is going on in his body, he grabs the Destroyer's wrist and uses the martial arts skills taught him by Captain America to throw the creature down into the basement. The Destroyer is so heavy that it falls through the foundation into the sewer line below. Ideas form in Tony's head through the muzziness of his condition.

He barrels into the sewer behind him, boot jets screaming.

Structural Damage Beyond Self-Repair Capacity. Weapons Systems Operating at 57 power efficiency. Weapons Systems Shutdown Eminent If Usage of Transportation Sub-Routines Continue

Tony ignores it, operating his targeting computers quickly until, at the right moment, his Unibeam shoots out in a tight blast. The blast severs a major power cable, which flops into the murky water.

The sewer in now alive with a massive dancing display of what sailors would call St. Elmo's Fire. The Destroyer writhes as its eldritch metal is electrified, and Tony does not let up, ripping chunks of masonry from the walls and throwing it upon the monstrous automaton. His on-board computer screams that shutdown is coming, but Tony continues to work at burying his foe.

There is a seven-block section of Seattle that will be without power for a day. There are complaints, but the mayor ignores them, knowing what could have happened without that sacrifice.

By the time the pain of his wounds and the failing of his armor catch up with Tony, the electrical discharge has been spent. The Destroyer has not gotten up for a full minute.

Tony Stark is not even conscious as he falls into the water, to be found by his partner several minutes later.

'Hello?"

"Rhodey?"

The cobwebs in James Rhodes' head cleared immediately. He stumbled to the bathroom and checked himself in the mirror. "Mrs. A--what's up?"

Mrs. Arborgast paused on the other end of the line. When she replies, it is with a voice fraught with distress. "It's Mr. Stark. I think you need to get up here immediately."

James Rhodes, long-time confidant of Tony Stark, first as a pilot then as the pro-tem president of Stark Enterprises--but always as his friend--felt a chill running through his body. "What?s wrong, Mrs. A? This sounds serious."

"It is. Mr. Stark--he was very badly hurt. He's in the hospital and, quite frankly, there's some doubt he'll survive."

James Rhodes talked to Mrs, Arborgast for a short while after. He asked her if this has something to do with the rampage up in Seattle; while he had been tied up with evacuating Hydrobase, he had managed to hear of that tragedy.

Once he got all the information he needed, James Rhodes hung up the phone and started to pack.


	24. The Colder Wars

Iron Man

Chapter 24: The Colder Wars

"How bad is he?"

"My guess? He played Iron Man and got into the Destroyer's face, and the Destroyer messed his tin ass up."

"God _damnit_, Tony."

"He's going to be okay. We've both seen him pull through worse."

"**Goddamnit**."

He paused and reached out to massage her shoulder. "I know."

"You know with all this surgery, he's a sitting duck."

"You could put on the armor--"

"No." James Rhodes' voice shook slightly. "I know I wore the War Machine armor, but to go back into the Iron Man rig--well, I still can feel the flames sometimes."

"But you and I know what his life is like. Given the situation, half of his old enemies will come crawling out the woodwork."

"That's why you should wear it."

"Me? I can't--"

"You have. Once before."

"That was special."

"And this isn't?" James Rhodes looked into his friend's eyes. "This is Tony we're talking about. You haven't come all this way to--"

"Damnit, Tony..."

The nurse looked at the sandy-haired man sternly. "I'm afraid I can't release that information."

The sandy-haired man cursed under his breath. He rubbed his neck. "Look, can I at least talk to somebody associated with Mr. Stark? I really would like to make sure he's okay and, you know, pay my respects if things go bad."

The nurse gave the man a look that was one half disbelief, one half contempt. "Mr. Stark is under very close watch. We can't just let anybody in..."

"What seems to be the problem, nurse?" asked a pleasant female voice from the other end of the corridor. The sandy-haired man looked in the direction of the voice to see two women, one a redhead with a spray of freckles and pixie-ish features, the other a brunette that seemed to have walked out of a fashion shoot where she played the prim and proper schoolteacher. They were both dressed professionally, and the man did not doubt they were employed by Tony Stark.

"This gentleman is insisting on checking in on Mr. Stark."

The redhead moved forward, one hand extended. The sandy-haired man was suddenly very self-conscious about the shabbiness of his clothing. "I'm Ms. Potts-Hogan, Mr. Stark's assistant. I don't seem to recall--"

"Donnie Gill," the brunette said, her voice thick with recrimination.

Ms. Potts-Hogan looked over at her companion. "You know him, Jocie?"

"You'd know him better as Blizzard, Pepper," Jocasta 'Jocie' Arborgast replied. "One of the late Justin Hammer's goons. He even tried to kill Mr. Stark not that long ago."

Pepper's face grew grim. She still bore nightmares from the time Hammer had kidnapped her. "Call security. Better yet, call Iron Man."

Donnie Gill threw up his hands. "No, no! Please don't, miss! You can see I'm unarmed, can't you? I left the suit in the car. I come in peace!"

The two women crossed their arms. "And we should believe you because...?" Jocie asked.

Donnie paused. He looked even more out of place than ever. "Look, I know I'm not a good guy, okay? But, you know, I heard that Mr. Stark might not make it and--well, he tried to do something for me a while back, tried to get me straight. I, you know...just wanted to be here for him."

"Believe it or not," Jocie Arborgast told Pepper, "I think he's telling the truth."

"I am," Donnie insisted. He reached behind his back and produced an object the size of a bulky notepad. "Here--this is my uniform's power pack. Without this I can't do jack. Take it, so you know I'm not going to hurt him."

The two women studied the young man for a long time. Finally, Pepper snatched the object away from him. "You wait in the lobby, right by security. You pull anything, and several metahumans will come down on your butt like a monsoon in India."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Follow us."

It had walked a long way. And low flying aircraft could still see the path that it took from the air.

It had spent the last two days walking through the desert. It was not uncomfortable; quite the contrary, the intense cold it radiated from its spindly snowman's body had protected him from the effects of the blistering temperatures. Its body temperature was so frigid that, even walking across the desert, he left a trail of ice in his wake.

It was stumbling through the streets of Seattle, looking for a certain hospital. It had already begun its trip when word of his enemy's mishap reached its ear. The Enemy Anthony Stark was in serious condition in the hospital, near death and undergoing radical surgery to prevent his death. That news did not lighten its heart, but it did realize its task had just gotten easier.

"StArK," it muttered to itself.

It was Anthony Stark, after all, who stole its mate Meredith McCabe back when it was Sloan Alden. It was Anthony Stark that somehow caused the accident that turned it into what it was. It was Anthony Stark's iron goon which drove it away, prompting it to hibernate while it recovered from the wounds of battle.

Up ahead, two SPD patrol cars blocked off the street. Behind safety barriers, policemen drew their guns and warned it away from its mission.

"Turn back now!" one of the policemen shouted through a bullhorn.

"No," it replied and raised its spindly, ice-encrusted arms to the sky.

Immediately, the zone of intense cold around him expanded outward. The warm Seattle breeze, suddenly confronted with a cold front unlike any other, became agitated and threw up dust and debris. Beams of frigid energy radiated from it, hitting the cops and causing instant frostbite.

It had once called himself Frostbite before it came up with a more appropriate name.

Amidst the screams of pain, one of the policemen fired off a shot. It raised its arm and the street before it erupted into a geyser of water that instantly froze before him.

"DeLiVeR sTaRk To BlIzZaRd," it proclaimed in its rasping voice, "Or DiE aLoNe."

Dr. Erica Sondheim finished her prep and turned to face her dear friend Scott Lang. "Scott, I respect you, and I respect Mr. Stark--but he's a damn idiot for making me do this procedure now."

"I know, Dr. Sondheim," Scott admitted sheepishly. "I did try to get him to back off during one of the few moments he was lucid."

"This implantation technique would be risky if he was fully healthy. Doing it now, when he's recovering from massive trauma is almost criminal."

"I think this situation with Iron Man and the Destroyer spooked him," Scott suggested. "He wants to get this taken care of now before something of that magnitude happens again."

The neurosurgeon, a handsome woman of advanced middle age, stared Scott Lang in the face. "You have not yet told me what these devices are designed to do."

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that," Scott replied, feeling out of sorts.

Dr. Sondheim's eyes narrowed. Scott had suspected that she might have pieced together Tony's secret. But if she had, she remained silent. She pulled up her facemask and asked, "Did he sign the release? I will not be responsible if his own foolishness kills him."

Scott nodded.

"Go back to your new girlfriend, Scott. I have work to do," Dr. Sondheim told her friend before heading into the operating theater.

There was something wrong with this picture, Karyn Celeste said to herself.

She was not supposed to be crying.

She sat in the uncomfortable wooden chair in the waiting room of the hospital where Tony Stark was being operated on. Next to her, squeezing her shoulders comfortingly, was Stark's office manager, Bambi Arborgast. Karyn had not expected that sort of reaction from the employee Tony referred to as 'Mrs. A' (as opposed to Jocie or 'Little A,' Tony's personal assistant and Bambi's niece), but then she looked around the deserted corridor and realized that maybe this was Mrs. A's private self that was being revealed.

Karyn daubed at her eyes. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Arborgast. I shouldn't be reacting like this."

"Nonsense. You're just being more honest about your feelings than most of us."

Karyn straightened herself up. "It's just--we're just getting to know each other, and there's this _chemical reaction_ between us that I can't describe--and now he may be taken away from me."

"Shush," Mrs. Arborgast said. "I've known Mr. Stark for years, and one thing he is is resilient. He'll bounce back."

Karyn paused and looked over at the older women. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" Mrs. Arborgast asked. A confused look flashed across her face.

"Being so nice to me." Karyn ducked her head and added, "I got the impression you didn't like me."

The reaction that statement got took Karyn back; Mrs. Arborgast actually laughed. "Dearie, I'm the office manager for Mr. Stark's expanding operations. The reason he brought me back to help with Stark Solutions is because he's looking into buying himself back into Stark 

Fujikawa. The man is a genius, but he's as distractible as my sister's dogs. I have to act like I don't like people like you because it's my job to dislike people who keep him away from his work."

"I'm not intending on keeping him away from his work--"

"Of course not," Mrs. Arborgast replied. 'But you do. I'll let you in on something--I haven't seen him this taken with somebody since his old bodyguard, Bethany Cabe...and if you ask her, she'll tell you I hated her too."

Karyn wiped her eyes again. "You know, you're pretty good at this."

"I'm ex-military, honey," Mrs. A shot back, "I have to be good at a lot of..."

Slowly, the older woman rose. Karyn looked over her shoulder to see a tall, handsome black man standing in the doorway next to one of Tony's engineering assistants, Jack Hart. "Is something wrong?"

"James Rhodes," Mrs. Arborgast said with a hint of a smirk.

"We're gonna start fighting right this minute, Mrs. A?"

Instead of replying, the older woman went over to the new arrival and hugged him tightly. "Good to see you, you bastard."

"Yeah, yeah--do you mind, woman? You're cutting off my air."

Jack wandered over to Karyn. "Who is this now?"

"Another friend of Tony's."

"I don't really know him at all, do I?" the pretty blonde executive asked.

"I don't think anyone does."

Whitney Frost let her holographic representation of Rumiko Fujikawa drop as she entered the darkened hospital room. Rumiko was the logical choice; before he had taken up with the platinum blonde in the eyeglasses presently being comforted by the elder Arborgast, Fujikawa was extremely close to Tony. She had even heard whispers in the gossip column of an engagement or an impending elopement. It would be logical for the woman to rush to his side in a time of crisis.

Whitney smirked at the thought of Tony Stark marrying Rumiko Fujikawa--or Karyn Celeste for that matter, even though their relationship was in its nascent stage. Whitney had known the Starks of two worlds, and she knew one thing about both; they craved a companion who could be an equal in _every_ way, not just a pretty centerpiece to their empire.

_Must remember to program Ms. Celeste's measurements into the hologram projection system,_ she reminded herself.

The patient slept in the hospital bed, oblivious to her entrance. She moved stealthily, not wanting to give anyone outside any excuse for coming in. The room was private, paid for by the patient's employer, Omnus Technologies. Whitney snuck up on the chubby sleeping man, his body exhausted by being the unwilling fuel cell for the Asgardian Destroyer's recent rampage. She took a moment to contemplate him; he did seem so unassuming and unthreatening lying there with a respirator to keep him breathing while he regained his strength..

And then she reached out and cut off his air hose.

The effect was instantaneous. The man's eyes flew open in a panic as he began sputtering for air. His body thrashed about as he looked for the reason why he couldn't breathe. Whitney emerged from the shadows and placed her gun barrel to his head. Deftly, she removed the respirator tube and thumped him on his heart. "Time to learn to breathe normally, Dr. Webster."

"w...who?" the patient asked weakly.

"You've been picking up my pieces, Dr. Webster," Whitney whispered calmly. "Picking them up and implanting them in other young girls. You're going to tell my why, you're going to tell me how, and you're going to tell me where the remaining girls are."

Brian Webster's eyes darted around the room. They met Whitney's, hidden behind her golden mask, and a slight mirthful light was cast within them. "And then, Dr. Webster, you're going to pay for crossing me."

The creature once called Frostbite, now called Blizzard, allowed his frigid field to expand outward. The street around him quickly gained a covering of ice that rolled outward like a carpet being unfurled. The Blizzard moved forward with the arrogance of a king walking through his realm. As it passed the frozen officers that had once tried to stop it, it flicked its fingers, shattering the figures into a number of pieces.

"ThIs iS BlIzZaRd'S dOmAiN nOw," the creature proclaimed. "AnD BlIzZaRd DeMaNdS sTaRk."

Ahead of Blizzard, a hospital loomed. It knew that Stark was in a hospital, vulnerable and ripe for destruction. It moved forward with purpose.

Until another familiar figure from its nightmares swooped down in front of Blizzard. This one was a being of shiny red and yellow metal, its chest light cutting through the murk of the increasingly violent snowstorm.

"Not a step more, buddy," the armored one insisted.

"WaNtEd StArK, iRoN mAn," Blizzard stated, shaping the snowstorm around it to reflect its own growing agitation. "BuT yOu wiLl Do."

And Iron Man felt the icy creature lash out with the force of a cannon shot.

Donnie Gill wasn't the only one confused when the reports came in.

"You're kidding me, IM," Pepper Potts said into the cell phone. "We've got Donnie Gill right here. He gave us--"

"What's going on?" Donnie asked.

"Just what I'd like to know," James Rhodes added. His arms were crossed over his chest.

Pepper put her hand over the cell. "Iron Man's claiming there's somebody calling himself Blizzard trying to get to the hospital."

"B-but--"

"We know, Mr. Gill," Jocie said, moving toward the television mounted in a corner of the waiting room. "You've been with Pepper and me since you arrived."

"Unless you're pulling something funky," Rhodey added.

"Nyah!" Donnie said, his voice raising in fear and frustration. "You know me better than anyone here, Mr. Rhodes. I'm not the kinda guy who'd pull something smart."

"Oh, God."

"What, Jocie?"

The brunette motioned to the television. On screen was a live feed. Iron Man was standing frozen in a black of ice while a spindly, snow-encrusted figure with spikes radiating from its head approached. The road around them was slick with ice. "I recognize that man from Av--from Iron Man's notes. He calls himself Frostbite."

"Then you believe me?" Donnie asked as cracks formed in the block of ice surrounding the Golden Avenger.

"Yeah," Jocie Arborgast replied, her eyes still on the television. On screen, Iron Man busted out of his prison in a shower of ice and blasted the creature with twin repulsor blasts. The new Blizzard stumbled backwards and launch a number of ice darts that pierced the armor's skin. "For one thing, you're right; you're not smart enough to pull off a clever plan."

Pepper turned to Jack Hart. "Jack, can you..."

The half-Contraxian shook his head. "Can't. The Neutralizing Mist has me normal for a while yet."

"Maybe we can find Whitney," Jocie suggested, "or we could call Warbird--"

Donnie's eyes were now glued to the screen. Iron Man took to the sky; his frigid opponent followed on an ice slide. "Let me get this straight," the young kid asked quietly. "This mook is, uh, biting my name?"

The gathered went quiet and looked at Donnie. James Rhodes cleared his throat and said, "That's right, kid."

On screen, the new Blizzard rammed into Iron Man from behind.

"Gimme my power pack," Donnie Gill said, his voice increasing in confidence. "No one pisses on _my_ name."

Dr. Sondheim was aware that Tony Stark was different from other patients she had operated on. She had had, after all, first hand experience with the modifications he had made on his body. But nothing prepared her for the profane beauty she beheld as she went underneath his skin.

Shiny filaments of high tech material ran through Tony's flesh like a spider's web. This was the artificial nervous system Dr. Sondheim had been briefed on in the days leading up to the operation. The filaments, a bioorganic form of fiber optics, served to carry the impulses to Tony's brain and kept him mobile.

She wondered if Tony thought of himself as fully human anymore.

Dr. Sondheim picked up the first of the strange objects she was to implant along his spinal cord, objects that were designed to be attached to and interfaced with the strange landscape of his neural system. She once again questioned Stark's sanity in going with the implantation now, and whether her agreement to do it would end up killing him.

_You're a damn fool, Tony Stark,_ Dr. Sondheim thought as she made the first incision.

The man with the first name of murder led the gathered businesspeople down the hallway to the main conference room. He suppressed a smile; this was the notorious 'Captains of Industry' he had been preparing for since he started putting his opening gambit into motion.

From the moment he and his mother had arrived on the West Coast, along with his father's sole remaining aide, Satsujin Moomji had heard rumors of this 'collective' approaching industry leaders and adding them to their organization. What they did as part of the collective was unknown; the companies that joined the group quickly sank under the radar of public opinion, neither creating notoriety nor announcing new innovations.

And then there was the bootleg video that fell into Satsujin's hand, the video from the Trade Tech security cameras. It showed their CEO, John Waak being murdered by one of the 'collective's' spokesmen, Diana Moffat.

The only reason the security tapes were bootlegged was because Waak apparently still walked this Earth, hale and hearty.

"I am flattered that you are considering Omnus for inclusion in your little group," Satsujin drawled, trying his best to sound welcoming and sincere. _Only twenty more feet, you abominations..._

"We are always on the lookout for new additions to our collective," assured Mel Travantis. By Satsujin's estimation, he was the second corporate executive to fall to the Captains of Industry.

"That includes up and comers as well as established names," added Diana Moffat. It was hard for Satsujin to look at her without seeing the security tape play out, with her strangling Waak until he turned purple. They came up on a bend in the corridor. Satsujin stepped aside.

"Well, if you are looking for an up-and-comer to join your group, I may very well be your man," Satsujin said in mock-cheerfulness. He extended his arm. "The conference room is down this hall. After you."

The Captains of Industry smiled and passed Satsujin. He watched their bodies move with an unnatural sameness--another indication of what he suspected. When they were far enough away, the man with the first name of murder flicked open a concealed cover and pressed a button.

As they had once before, thick walls of a clear plastic polymer slid down, cutting off any avenue of escape. The corridor hummed with power.

"What have you _done_?" screamed the imposter that walked in Hai Hoang's skin.

"Release us!" added Diana Moffat. The things playing at being Mel Travantis and John Waak were already stumbling about.

"No," Satsujin Moomji replied. "You sought to kill and replace me. Now, if you wish not to die from radiation poisoning, you will drop your disguises and swear your loyalties to me."

"Must not--" muttered the one in Waak's skin. His attention seemed drawn to his arm; as with the member of System Crash who had served as the trap's trial run, 'John Waak' was noticing that he was incapable of keeping up his disguise. Where there should have been a normal human arm, there was a sleek, smooth appendage of a deep metallic green lacking in musculature or definition. It was as if Satsujin was observing the outline of an actual being, as opposed to the being itself.

"The...homeland...is all," the Travantis creature gasped. Half of its face was gone, replaced with an ovoid blank.

Satsujin suddenly remembered what these creatures resembled. He chuckled to himself. "Dear Gods...Adaptoids."

He adjusted the radiation levels back from lethal dosage and stabbed Mr. Snare's number into his cell. It was time to take the Spymistress up on one of her offers.

Iron Man blasted the new Blizzard back with a sustained shot of double repulsors. Even at a distance, the cold radiated off of the freakish, snowman-like being, a cold so deep it was felt through the heaters inside the armor.

Iron Man rose up to a standing position. "You are not getting anywhere near Mr. Stark."

"YoU cAnNot StOp BlIzZaRd. IrOn CrAcKs. FlEsH cRaCks." It waved its hand, and a barrage of icy needles shot toward the Golden Avenger. The Targeting Computer went into overtime, zeroing in on their trajectory. Iron Man fired his uni-beam, vaporizing the ice missiles into mist.

_How can you do this all the time, Tony?_ Iron Man thought as boot jets kicked in, lifting the armored form higher. Blizzard formed a ramp at its feet and gave chase. With another wave of its hand, a beam of ice hit Iron Man full in the chest. Ice crystals formed along the arms and upper torso. Heating coils kicked into overdrive to melt them away. The HUD continued to count down the energy reserves the extra heating elements were eating away. Quickly Iron Man spun around rapidly, throwing the loosened ice back at his attacker.

Iron Man rolled up and over Blizzard, repulsors firing to sever the ice ramp. The Blizzard fell, but its hands flashed once again, creating an ice slide that lowered him to the ground. Iron Man swooped down and tackled the creature, bringing it into the side of the nearest building.

It had no effect. The Blizzard stood up, laughingly telling Iron Man, "IcE pRoTeCtS. IcE pReSeRvEs."

"Would you please," came a voice from behind the combatants, "Shut the Hell Up."

Iron Man ducked just as a barrage of hailstones pelted the Blizzard. Turning, the Armored Avenger saw something curious. Standing on a rooftop across the street was the blue and white form of the last villain to hold the name of Blizzard.

And behind him, piloting a helicopter, was James Rhodes.

"If this is some kind of trick--" Iron Man mumbled.

Blizzard lowered himself down on an ice slide of his own creation. "No trick, Tin Man. Your boss tried to do me a solid a long time ago; I'm just returning the favor."

"No!" cried the icy creature that was once called Frostbite. It fired twin blast of frigid cold both his original and his newfound combatant. "YoU wIlL nOt StOp BlIzZaRd FrOm ReVeNgInG--"

"I'm Blizzard, buddy," Donnie Gill insisted, firing a bolt of his own that was high. Behind his opponent, the wall iced up, small hairline cracks appearing in its surface. Seizing the opportunity, Iron Man blitzed the area, slamming into the damaged wall to bury the icy menace.

The Golden Avenger turned and faced the new arrival. "Your help couldn't have come at a better time--"

"Don't get too happy, Shellhead. This is a one-time deal." Before Donnie Gill could elaborate, the pile of bricks and debris thrown on top of the new Blizzard exploded outwards thanks to an expanding ice-ball. Iron Man and Donnie worked hard blasting the shrapnel into dust. The ice ball melted away, and the new Blizzard walked out. Icy winds kicked up in his wake.

"No MaTtEr WhO bArS BlIzZaRd's WaY, hE wIlL hAv--"

"Oh, shut up!" Donnie called out again, creating a solid column of ice before him that rammed his opponent back into the damaged building. Iron Man hovered behind the former pawn of Justin Hammer, deep in thought.

"Hey, kid," the Golden Avenger finally said. "Do me a favor, and pour the cold on this bozo, okay?"

"Sure!" The original Blizzard moved forwards, beams of intense cold shooting from both palms. The newer pretender to the name laughed.

"YoU sEeK tO dEsTrOy BlIzZaRd WiTh HiS oWn EleMent," the icy creature mocked. Iron Man flew forward.

"The kid's right,' the Golden Avenger said, "You are a chatty one."

Without warning, Iron Man's Uni-Beam clicked on. Using the chin toggle, the Golden Avenger set it for heat emission. The creature suddenly found itself barraged with extremes from both ends of the thermometer. There was a sound like an iceberg breaking up coming from the former Frostbite.

"WhAt ArE yOu DoIng?" it called out, its voice wracked with pain.

Iron Man chose not to answer, preferring instead to slam into the figure. Exposed to both extreme heat and cold, the creature's outer carapace had become exceeding brittle. It came away in shards, leaving a very blue, barely alive Sloan Alden.

As the Golden Avenger gathered up the man, Donnie Gill said, "Wow. How'd you know you'd cure him?"

"Didn't," Iron Man said and flew off.

It took another day after surgery was finished before Jocie Arborgast was allowed to wheel Tony Stark out to meet his friends and staff. Still weak and shaking off sedation, he reminded the others of all he had been through in his life. Looking at him now brought home the fact that this was a man who had gone through a heart transplant and several experimental operations to keep him alive and mobile.

His staff gathered around him. Tony made note of how Karyn hovered toward the back, seemingly nervous and agitated. He cleared his throat and said weakly, "Hello, everyone."

"Hey, Tones," James Rhodes said. Tony's lips twitched into a smile.

"It took my near death to bring you back, Rhodey?"

"We've all been worried about you," Scott Lang said. His right arm was draped casually around Pepper Potts' waist--something that explained why Happy was not here.

"Jocie has told me that you had some worries of your own," Tony replied.

"Iron Man took care of that. He's over in Intensive Care ward seeing to the guy," Jack informed his friend.

"He says I caused his condition?"

"We don't get it either," Pepper replied.

"You look good, boss," Scott added.

"Who you looking at? He looks like crap," Rhodey said sharply. "But you're still living crap."

Tony chuckled weakly. "I was hoping to see Iron Man...to thank him for keeping watch over me."

Karyn Celeste looked over her shoulder. "H--here he is now," she said. Tony frowned at the way her voice sounded so small and lost.

The gathering parted to let the yellow and red clad Avenger through. Tony nodded his head to acknowledge the hero's presence. "Good job," he told his alter ego. Obviously, Tony thought, this was Jocasta remote-controlling the armor like she did during the final squirmish with Justin Hammer--

Except Iron Man reached up and undid the lock on the helmet. With a gentle _whoosh_ of released air, the figure in the armor lifted the helmet off...

A cascade of red hair tumbled to the armor's shoulders. Green eyes crinkled as Iron Man smiled softly. She was still beautiful after all these years--maybe more so for the years she had lived since Tony had last seen her. He wondered if, in his weakened state, he could withstand the way his heartbeat was speeding up.

"You get what you pay for, Tony," Bethany Cabe told him. "Welcome back."


	25. Heavy Metal Meltdown

Iron Man

Chapter 25: Heavy Metal Meltdown

"It was your idea to put Beth in the armor?" Tony asked and coughed. It had been a week since his reconstructive surgery, and he still looked worse for wear.

James Rhodes nodded. "We didn't know you had made arrangements with Little A, Tones, and I knew somebody like that Blizzard dude was going to come after you. Since I still got issues with your longjohns, Beth was the logical choice."

"It was difficult getting used to that new armor, Tony," Beth added. "You just love being a few centuries ahead of the trends, don't you?"

"You put yourself in a great deal of danger for me, Bethany-"

"No more than you would have if you were my bodyguard…and speaking of which…"

Tony looked from his best friend to his ex-girlfriend. "What?"

"Pepper and Little A's been talking to us, Tones. They feel that the way you're…you know…crushed…you need us around. Beth's going to be your bodyguard, and I'll be temporarily acting as your assistant." James looked mildly pained at telling Tony the news.

"What? But I'm doing fine." As if to provide counterpoint, Tony started hacking and coughing.

"Oh, let's not start playing 'Old Times' here," Beth said, rolling her eyes. "You know I'm competent, Tony-and Rhodey ran your company when we all thought you died. Having him, Jocie and Pepper working together assures that Stark Solutions will run smoothly."

"Just as long as I don't have to work with Mrs. A," Rhodey mumbled.

"It's not going to be Stark Solutions much longer," Tony replied.

James Rhodes' eyes narrowed. "What you talking about, Tones?"

Tony adjusted himself in his bed. "I've been doing a lot of thinking of late, ever since Justin Hammer tried to take me down. I may have been spending a lot of time playing dilettante, fooling myself into thinking I can be some sort of modern samurai, but to the world I'll always be Tony Stark, major player and industrialist. So maybe it's time I stop trying to be a hired gun and become my own man."

Beth's mouth slowly dropped open. "You're not…"

Tony nodded. "I am. Once I'm out of this hospital bed, I'm going to talk to the Fujikawas and to Morgan. I think it's time to stop playing at being the industrialist's version of Yojimbo and take back Stark International."

The woman in the blue and yellow costume handed a binder over to the man with the first name of Murder. He acknowledged the act with a slight, crisp bow. "It's all in here."

The woman nodded. Her outfit had been worn before by two other people before her-both men. Since she had taken it over, she had made modifications to it, adding in special traps and devices she had devised when she was called the Saboteur.

She called herself the Spymistress now.

Satsujin Moomji leafed through the schematics. "They seem in order."

"I can't account for their accuracy," the Spymistress admitted. "They were reverse engineered by this hotshot on the Armor Wars circuit, Terry Newcomb. But the rumors are he was pretty good; even got some attention from Baintronics before he was busted."

"Accuracy I am not so worried about," the young industrialist said as he tucked the binder under one arm. "My operatives can certainly…improvise in such a way as to surprise the opposition."

"Fine. Then I'll assume my payment has been properly transmitted?"

Satsujin smiled. It was the sort of grin that never spread to the rest of his face. "Certainly. I took the liberty of depositing it through several cut outs to protect your privacy."

"Mighty kind of you."

"Yes. I will point out, though, that the gesture was not without ulterior motive." The young man met the woman's gaze. "I would be quite interested in anything involving Anthony Stark and his future plans. If anything does come your way, I hope you will remember my consideration and generosity."

Satsujin Moomji saw the Spymistress' mask twitch into a smile. "I just might, Mr. Moomji. Pleasure doing business."

Happy Hogan looked intently at his ex-wife looking intently at Scott Lang with a thought that shamed him.

That thought was _I could take him_.

The three of them sat in Jack Hart's workspace. Jack himself was dividing his attention between the conversation and monitoring the astral positions in the star systems just outside Pluto. Apparently, there were discrepancies, which according to Jack meant that the Stark fleet he was so worried about was approaching. "So this armor is actually…alive?" Jack asked.

"Not really," Scott answered. "It is-well, I don't know if I can call it bio-organic, but the resulting shell includes a simulation of Iron Man's DNA. It literally is a part of him now. No one else can use it."

"Well, what would happen if Iron Man couldn't do the job and someone had to take over for a while?" Happy asked. He pointedly hadn't looked at neither Scott nor Pepper for some time.

"The Safe Armor he's been using for months is still available, as will Jocasta and Ms. Cabe to pilot it. And Tony insisted that there was a backdoor keyed into Jocasta's unique positronic brainwaves for absolute emergiences. The thing to keep in mind about the Living Iron Armor is it uses Iron Man's nervous system as its Sysop, making it more responsive, quicker and more adaptable. Plus, since it is bio-organic, it is capable of actually mending minor damage. It won't be able to recover from what the Destroyer dished out, but something analogous to everyday hazard damage it can. And that's not the best part…"

Pepper grinned. "I smell something good."

"Tony and I adapted the nanotech of the modular armor and kicked it up. This means that the Living Iron Armor can switch between three different 'modes'-and since the wearer's nervous system is the driving force, the switch will be near instantaneous. We designed a mode for evasion, one for normal firefights, and one for heavy response."

"Sounds pretty tough," Happy mumbled and rose. "You guys excuse me, I gotta go check on the…on the environmental control system."

Scott watched Happy leave. He bit his lower lip and silently admonished himself. He had known that spending time with the man's ex-wife was causing tension, but Scott didn't know how much until now. He felt Pepper's hand lightly touch his. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry," Scott replied. "I didn't intend-"

"Look, the marriage was long over. _Long_ over. We're still friends, but that's it. Don't worry about it."

Scott looked toward Jack. "But with this invasion coming, we're all going to need to stand together."

The freckled redhead smiled softly. "Let me talk to him, then. I _do_ have some experience when it comes to smoothing things over with the lug."

Jack clapped Scott on the shoulder. "Comon'. Tell me more while I focus in on the coordinates. Lord knows I need to know everything about my resources."

Scott looked for a second at Pepper as she went to go after her ex-husband. A strange expression flickered on his face before he rose to join Jack.

"Can he do it?"

"Beth, look who we're talking about," James Rhodes replied with a slight, arch smile. "If anyone could…"

"Yeah," the redhead said. She brushed some strands of hair away from her face as they reached the elevators. "But should he? I hate to say it, but even with the pounding he got from the Destroyer, he seems…"

"Relaxed?"

"Normal. He doesn't seem tense or overburdened or, you know, anything. Maybe getting back into the international scene at such a level won't help him."

"Not our decision, Beth. It's Tones."

The elevator _pinged_ and the doors slid open. Inside was a well-dressed woman, her face hidden by a large bouquet of summer flowers. Bethany and Rhodey stepped aside to let her off. As Rhodey stepped inside the elevator, Bethany's gaze lingered. "Is that…?"

"Karyn Celeste. Yeah."

Bethany watched the woman head towards Tony's room before joining Rhodey inside the elevator.

The man with the first name of murder, accompanied by the leader of his Chessmen and his Master of Traps, entered the special holding cell to talk to the Adaptoids that had made up the Captains of Industry.

The android no longer bothered trying to maintain disguises. Even though their forms had since been flushed of the special radiation that inhibited their ability to transform, a malaise had come over them. These creatures-originally manufactured to be emotionless weapons of AIM-seemed to be suffering from actual depression at being captured by Satsujin Moomji.

**--the Adaptiods fell prey to this trap last issue, although it was first used in issue #18.**

At his right, the leader of the Chessman, code-named Knight, passed out schematics to each of the Adaptoids. The one who had once been Diana Moffat (distinguishable by her decision to modify herself into a female form once her transformative abilities returned) looked up. "Free us."

Satsujin shook his head. "No."

"Free us," added the creature that had once been Mel Travantis.

"No. And if I receive that demand one more time, I will authorize Mr. Snare to give you another dose of what disabled you. A fatal dose."

The dwarf in the medieval costume raised a small mechanical box. "It would be my pleasure, Master."

"No!" the sole female-formed Adaptoid said. Satsujin marveled at how the machine seemed to actually sound…desperate. It lowered its head. "We will listen."

"Good," Satsujin Moomji said. He slowly circled the room. "You are Adaptoids. If I do not miss my guess, you are survivors of the Boca Caliente disaster. That rock was the 'Homeland' you keep referencing."

When the Adaptoids did not respond, Satsujin continued. "I am prepared to help finance the founding of a new 'homeland' for you _completely_…a gift from me to you. But only if you do this one thing that I suspect you will not find at all distasteful."

The Adaptoid that had once been masquerading as John Waak examined the specs before him. "What do you want?"

"I want you to study those specs and mimic the armor depicted therein to the best of your ability. Make whatever improvements you wish to do. Then you will travel to Stark Solutions with my friend The Knight here…"

"…and kill him, my Heavy Metal Team."

Jocasta watched Tony slowly rise from his wheelchair. She held back her anxiety upon seeing the wince of pain on his face.

They were down in the bowels of Stark Solutions-the private laboratory Tony referred to as 'the skunkworks.' There, amidst all the equipment that would baffle lesser men, Tony Stark attached electrodes to his temples and over his heart.

"Tony, is it necessary to test the activation protocols now?"

"I have to, Jocie. All this sitting around-literally-is driving me nuts."

Jocasta wondered if Tony wasn't hiding a greater anxiety, namely that his wheelchair-bound condition reflected that period of his life where he was paralyzed from the waist down. "But you're still not properly healed-"

"If it's all working properly, it won't matter how healed I am."

_But what if it isn't?_ Jocasta thought to herself. She proceeded to the monitor that would record fluctuations in Tony's condition as he activated the 'Living Iron Armor.' "You need to be more careful, Tony."

If Tony heard his friend, he did not acknowledge her comment. He put his hands on two spherical devices that would help monitor galvanic skin response. "Ready?"

Jocasta nodded.

"Okay," Tony said. He took a deep breath and added, "Activate Evader mode."

The effect was instantaneous and more than a bit disturbing. Ropy tendrils of what looked like molten metal flowed over Tony's body. Jocasta knew that the effect was just an upgrade of the nanotech Tony used to create his 'modular' armor, but the fluidity with which the shell 

formed, coupled with the knowledge that the nano-machines were pouring forth from devices implanted along Tony's spine made the effect rather disturbing. In a matter of seconds, the shell had covered Tony's entire body and was being molded to the activated setting.

The resulting armor looked very different, starting with the skull-like helmet that was colored gold. The golden motif-apparently reversing the traditional color schemes of his older armors-continued in an asymmetrical chestplate, gauntlets and boots. The Uni-Beam this time was triangular in shape, and this armor did without the nodules on either side of the housing. Underneath, red metal mimicked the musculature of Tony's arms, legs and chest.

"Not too bad. Hardly felt a thing," Tony commented.

"This is the…Evader…mode?"

"Yes," Tony replied. He flexed his arms. "It's designed primarily for speed and mobility, Jocie. Armaments are at a minimum in favor of expanded fuel converters in the cuffs of the gauntlets and boots and more powerful thrusters. This is the armor you use when you want to avoid being hit." He lifted his helmet. "You'll gather up the results?"

Jocasta nodded. "Of course." She paused before adding, "You're not going to…"

"Take it out for a spin? I'm not that reckless." He moved back to his wheelchair and lowered himself into it. "And I won't test activation of the other two modes, either. Happy?"

"Yes."

"Good. De-activate Evader mode." Within seconds, the armor seemed to disintegrate into a shower of gray flakes. "Now let's go topside. I have lunch with Karyn, and I don't want to keep her waiting."

As Jocasta gathered up the information, she had a thought that mirrored one Dr. Erica Sondheim had when she operated on Tony the previous week.

_Oh, Tony,_ she thought, _Are you even human any more?_

"Get out of town!"

"It's true."

_Who is this?_

"Your new Knight, father."

_What happened to my old Chessmen?_

"Mr. Snare, the one who served as your Rook, is still with me, father. He has served me very well in this game. The others have been…taken off the board for their incompetence in dealing with Iron Man."

"Hey, Mr. M-you're not thinking of-"

"No, I'm not. Just follow orders and you will be well cared for into your old age."

"This is still too freaky. I thought he was dead."

"He still is. We have just transcended death thanks to friends in Wakanda"

**--Surely you remember that little exchange in issue #16 of this series?**

_He does bring up an interesting question, my son-how did I end up in this tube?_

"Your soul was culled from the afterlife by a cult of Wakandan mystics who maintain a curious little item called The Resurrection Altar. Usually, the Altar is able to implant the soul into the dead body of the subject, effectively reviving him. Since your body was in…less than ideal conditions, we chose to have the mystics create an artifact called a Spirit Jar to contain you until I was ready to proceed further with your revival."

_I don't think I like floating in a glass tube very much, my son._

"That's okay, father. In fact, once our Knight here conceals this device on the grounds of Anthony Stark's home, you will be able to break free temporarily to test my theories while a new home is found for your magnificence."

_A new home?_

"Yes, father. It is being located as we speak. I was positive you'd want to watch tony Stark's ruination first hand."

Jack Hart turned to Bethany Cabe. He clapped his hands together. "And that's it."

Beth wrinkled her nose. "No disrespect, Mr. Hart-I hardly even know you after all-but do you _ever_ poke your head out of this lab?"

Jack smiled sheepishly. "It shows, huh?"

Beth nodded and walked to one of the dry erase boards set up around the area. "It must be difficult, knowing something is coming of that magnitude."

"Yeah," Jack nodded. "I was hoping Tony and Scott would be able to help me prepare but, you know, with that new armor and all-"

"Time is limited." It was Bethany's turn to grace Jack with a slight, wan smile. "Believe me, when it comes to Anthony Stark and time, I understand completely."

Jack sighed. "And the worst of it is even if Tony and Scott had the time, I would still be in way over my head. I mean, I really could use some skilled biochemists and xenobiologists and…well, you get the idea. I may have spent a lot of time in space, but I still don't have the 

theoretical or practical grounding to spearhead a defense force against invasion. I mean, last time I ran into the woman who's behind this, she captured me."

Bethany paused for a moment. "Have you ever thought of calling the Avengers West Compound?"

"I don't know. It's not like I'd know what to say."

"Well, that you know Tony Stark for one," Bethany replied with a laugh. "He does fund the Avengers. And if you really need a biochemist with some knowledge of non-human biology, Hank Pym's your man. In fact, I'm sure we can find all the support you need from the people who have been Avengers in the past."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

Jack went to the phone. "Thanks, Ms. Cabe."

"Glad to-"

That was when the rafters shook.

Karyn Celeste glanced over the table. She fought back the impulse to panic.

Tony still looked so…_frail_ even after all this time to recover. When he did stand up, his limbs shook with an alarming unsteadiness. She knew Tony was older than she was (_But not older than that Ms. Cabe,_ she thought before tamping that fear down), but he never appeared as such until that moment.

Tony continued eating his chicken masala, his actions seemingly slowed. Karyn bit her lower lip and wondered what to say to her…

Was he her boyfriend now? They had been dating for a while, and they'd been over each other's place, but…

"You okay, Karyn?"

At first she smiled and said, "Fine, hun, fine."

Tony continued looking directly at her. She put down her fork and sighed. "Okay, maybe not so much."

"If it's something I did-"

"No, no." She reached out and touched his hand. "It's just…I knew you were up to it to your neck, Tony, but I never expected being in the eye of the storm so quickly. Being kidnapped by super-villains, learning you were caught in the middle of that rampage by the Destroyer-"

"Luckily Iron Man and the Jack of Hearts was on the scene. It could be-"

"Don't."

Tony tilted his head. "Don't what?"

"Look…you know, it's hard to take when you came this close, and now…"

She let herself trail off, unsure of how to bring up her concerns about the arrival of Bethany Cabe. Before she could decide if she could tell Tony she was threatened by her, the rafters shook.

Whitney Frost stepped nimbly along the lawn outside Tony's house with the information she gleaned from Brian Webster swimming in her head. She shifted her outward appearance to represent Bethany Cabe in a form fitting black leather outfit much like her own. For some reason it appealed to her to take the appearance of the one woman she thought of as an equal in getting her vengeance.

She pitied Karyn Celeste, she did. The poor girl didn't know what she was getting into.

As she mounted her motorcycle, she caught sight of five objects flying toward the house. They looked familiar to her, especially the one in emerald and forest green with the wedge-like helmet. It was a Guardsman.

On the right flank was the gray and silver armor of War Machine.

And on the left, the midnight blue armor of the Iron Monger.

She did not recognize the other two armors, but was sure they were enemies of Tony.

She thought about warning Tony, of standing by his side as he stood by her of late. But the thought of the person behind her chronal disease getting away with killing her slowly for another second burned in her mind.

She pealed out just as the advance wing fired their repulsors as one.

"What is it?" Karyn Celeste asked.

"Take cover!" Tony called out. He immediately began intoning "Activ-" before a twinge in his side made him bite back the command. After all, Karyn was staring right at him; the last thing he needed was to bring _another_ of his girlfriends prematurely into his inner circle.

The Jack of Hearts and Jocasta rose into the air to meet the five figures. As Tony studied them, he gasped.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Those…those are…well, armors I had a hand in, except for those two. The Guardsman, War Machine, the Iron Monger-all designed by me or derived from work I did. The only problem is they shouldn't exist any more."

Tony thought long and hard. He started wheeling his way to the nearest door. "I have to notify Iron Man."

"Mutha of…"

Scott Lang picked himself up. His hand dug in his pocket for an object the size of a marble. "What?"

James Rhodes pointed to the figure in black and green presently trading blasts with the silvery female form of Jocasta. "That armor…I used to wear it…I _destroyed_ that sucker."

"How dangerous?"

"_Very_ dangerous." He turned to Scott. "I don't know what they want, but I need to get Tony away."

"I'll evacuate the others!" Scott said and ran out of the room. Unbeknownst to Rhodey, Scott broke the seal on a cylinder on the small object in his hand. It became a helmet with antenna and a red, black and blue costume.

As he shrugged the helmet on and started contacting his friends, Scott Lang muttered, "Damn. I promised Cassie I'd stay out of trouble.

The massive blue armor barreled into Jack. He felt the impact deep in his stomach.

To his right, the weird looking character with the wrist blades was stabbing them at Jocasta, causing sparks to jump from her sleek form.

Jack gave his enemy an uppercut fortified with Zero Fuel and turned to fire a blast at the War Machine. The gray and silver enemy fired off his gattling gun, the bullets _pinging_ off the ancient armor Jack used to contain his boundless energies. "I recognize the guy in green, but who are these losers?"

"We are Heavy Metal!" The Guardsman proclaimed loudly as he fired at Jocasta's back. The woman ducked down, and the Eidolon caught the brunt of the repulsor blasts.

The man in the blue armor fired at Jack, driving him upwards. "We are the sins of Tony Stark come home to roost!"

The Eidolon raised its cannon arm to aim at Jocasta. Twin red beams flew from the android's eyes and shredded the device before it could fire. "You must be some of Mr. Stark's…dumber sins."

"Say that now!" called out the War Machine as it blasted Jocasta in the back. "Get her, Monger."

"With pleasure," the man in blue armor responded, pounding on Jocasta with his two massive fists.

"Why don't I get you instead!" an all-too-familiar voice to the defenders of Stark Solution said. There was a streak of red-and-gold as the Iron Monger was tackled and driven to the ground.

"Oh, no…." Jocasta muttered as a figure in red and gold armor, unfamiliar yet very recognizable climbed out of the small pit the impact caused. The usual color scheme was reversed, and the yellow chest plate had a wedge-shaped construction that flared out at the shoulders. The helmet was a solid gold, and resembled a skull. Gauntlets that flared at either side and high boots were also golden, while small constructions of tubing lay on both hips. The figure fired a golden beam from the triangular lens on its chest, and the Guardsman went tumbling end over end.

Iron Man had arrived.

Karyn Celeste ran through the corridors, looking for someone, anyone who still remained and needed to be evacuated. She had boasted when she first met Tony that she used his status as a 'proactive corporate samurai' as an inspiration for her own life.

Tony had gone to get Iron Man. To be worthy of that boast she made, she decided not to cower behind the table in the dining room and help.

She ran through the corridors of the first floor, opening doors and looking for anyone trapped. There weren't many people working at Stark Solutions, but she knew most of them were Tony's friends; he would be crushed if anything happened to them.

Just as she was about to mount the staircase to the lower floors, the ceiling burst open.

What came through wore a suit of armor of shiny black metal. The helmet had a strangely familiar shape, looking like the visor of a knight of old. The rest of the outfit seemed perfectly modern and sleek, with scored lined decorating the intruder's chest, boots and gloves.

He clenched his fists, producing a shield and mace made out of pale pink energy. "My, my, what have we here?"

Karyn backed away. She scanned the area for anything she could use as a weapon. She had appeared vulnerable to Tony earlier today; she'd be damned if she folded now.

The high-tech knight moved closer. Karyn feinted to her left, then dove right, grabbing a carafe of coffee from the coffee maker by the door and throwing the scalding liquid, aiming for the knight's face. The armored intruder's shield went up, deflecting the attack.

"Very clever, missie."

"You better get the Hell out of here," Karyn warned. She put her foot against the table in front of her and pushed. It tumbled toward the Knight, knocking him off balance. "You don't know who you're dealing with."

"A little pris who thinks she can hang with the big boys?" the Knight replied, knocking the table aside. He flexed the fingers on his left hand and the mace transformed into a set of bolas. Her whirled them over his head and let fly.

Karyn found herself falling to the ground. She hit her chin hard, and she felt a tooth chip.

She could hear the footsteps of the Knight grow closer. Her legs were bound tight, and she struggled to loosen the wires that wrapped around them.

"You're lucky I don't have much…" the Knight started to say before he emitted a startled yelp. She turned over to see the man scrabbling at his helmet, crying for all he was worth.

"What the?"

"Shhhhh…." A tiny voice said next to her ear. She looked over to see a man in a silver helmet and a red and black outfit riding an ant. "My friends and I will get you out of this."

Iron Man rose into the air again. The Jack of Hearts drifted to the left to give him clear passage into the disoriented Guardsman.

"I don't know whose idea of a sick joke this is, but it stops now," the Golden Avenger proclaimed. He twirled in the air, a _pokpokpok_ reverberating as he did so. The War Machine's gattling gun suddenly disintegrated into a shower of shrapnel, while the Eidolon's carapace cracked in several places.

"What's that?" Jack asked as he flew over the Eidolon and fired a blast that continued to shatter the Eidolon Warwear armor.

"Rail gun," Iron Man replied, firing his Uni-beam to knock the Iron Monger down to the ground again. "Uses magnetics to fire high velocity, high concentration metal slag. Can't…use it often, but it's a good conversation starter."

Jocasta nimbly dodged the Guardsman as he charged and delivered a blow to the back of the enemy's head. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Iron Man responded, firing both repulsors at the War Machine. The blasts hit the guantlets on his opponent, smashing his own repulsors. "This shouldn't take…much longer."

The Guardsman looped low and came up underneath the new Iron Man. The emerald armor lifted the Golden Avenger higher. Jocasta heard a click and her friend's gauntlets began to glow a bright yellow.

"The problem with this Heavy Metal is that….their armors are ancient," Tony continued, bringing his glowing fist down hard on the Guardsman's back. A large crack formed in the carapace. "They may have….been a chore for me…when I wore the older armors, but with the power of…the Living Iron on my side…"

Tony's other fist glowed. He plunged his arms down into the Guardsman's shell. There was an audible _crack_ as his fingers dug into the titanium plate. Lifting the enemy over his head, he added, "…this is all Child's Play!"

He hurled the Guardsman downward on top of the Iron Monger armor. Jack strafed it on the way down, blasting it and causing large shards of metal to fly off him. Iron Man turned to snap fire his rail gun twice, snapping the Eidolon's wrist blades cleanly. Jocasta closed in and let fly with a rain of blows that sent the wearer of the alien armor plummeting to the ground to join his comrades.

As one, the three heroes turned to the disabled War Machine. Energy crackled around Iron Man's gauntlets. "It's just you now, buddy…"

The War Machine held up his hands. "No…this is not what Moomji promised! He promised us a homeland! No….no!"

The gray and silver armor turned green and wavered. Details were lost, to be replaced by a smooth countenance. The creature went limp and plummeted to the ground. Jack raced to catch it.

"Well, that was different," Jocasta suggested.

"Agreed. Now all we have to do is-"

With a cry of startled pain, Iron Man crumpled. With lightning quickness, Jocasta instituted the programming in her head that allowed her to take over the armor-the only one that could. She headed back to the compound, the curled up Iron Man following behind.

It was painful, the crawling sensation all over his body. They were everywhere, and as long as he was in the armor he couldn't escape it. The former Raider now called the Knight quickly worked his chin toggle to unseal his helmet. Unsteady hands allowed him to remove the headpiece.

"I know who you are," said the redhead who had joined the cute blonde. She held a gun in her right hand. The grip seemed very casual, but the Knight knew it was aimed directly at his forehead. Next to the women was a large black man with arms folded. "Good work, Ms. Celeste." The blonde seemed startled at the redhead's praise. "T-thanks."

A small speck flew around the redhead's face. "She had some help you know."

"So before the three immensely powerful big guns return," Bethany Cabe said, "want to tell us what this was all about?"

Suppressing a smile, the Knight proceeded to recount the cover story he was given.

_So our Knight was taken._

"Yes, father. But do not worry. As you taught me through my mother, I am already thinking three moves ahead. His purpose was served, as was that of our Heavy Metal Team. The device is secured, and we will test it soon."

_I do not think I like this idea, becoming a nomad drifting from shell to shell._

"Do not worry, father. I think you will…like your new body."

And in the ruins of a castle in Hong Kong, Count Zorba's team of mercenaries dug deeper. They had been working for three days straight, and some of them were despairing of ever finding it….

…until one caught a glimpse of a crimson glove with a golden window just below the knuckles.

"Good morning, Mr. Stark," the man said with an arrogant smile before calling his comrades.


	26. Whispers Of The Iron Morgue

Iron Man

Chapter 26: Whispers Of The Iron Morgue

"I don't think there's any doubt. Satsujin Moomji has a vendetta against me."

Happy Hogan rubbed his neck. Tony Stark noticed how one of his oldest friends was avoiding his gaze. "But why would he be doing all this?"

"It's not like we haven't been hassled by other junkyard dogs looking to be king of the hill," James Rhodes suggested.

Tony Stark shook his head. "I don't think it's quite like that. Previous business rivals--Justin Hammer, Kearson DeWitt, Obediah Stane--have all attacked me in the business arena as well as personally. There's something...more intimate about what Moomji is pulling. Look at how he used old armor schematics to attack my house."

"You don't think it's something tied in with his cousin?" Rhodey asked. The woman Satsujin claimed was his cousin, Indries, was once romantically involved with Tony until she was revealed as the Queen in Obediah Stane's game to ruin him.

"We've had doubts that Satsujin is related to Indreis Moomji from the start," offered Jocie Arborgast. "There's no record of any family ties. It doesn't mean they don't exist, but it does color his presence in our lives with suspicion."

Tony slowly made his way to his desk. He leaned on the metal tipped cane, shifting pressure off his left leg; he had made progress in his recovery from the beating he received at the hands of the Asgardian Destroyer, but some wounds were mending slower than others. "But after that attack by the so-called Heavy Metal Team, which that Adaptoid we captured insisted was spurred on by Moomji, it occurred to me that his attacks were never on my business. In fact, he seemed interested in hiring me when a possibility arose."

"So you're saying what? This guy's not interested in what you can do, he's interested in _you_?" Happy asked.

"He certainly isn't threatened by my intelligence or expertise. There's something else going on, something tied in to Satsujin himself. I'd like the three of you to look into this. Ask around, see what you can come up with."

Happy's face seemed to flicker with doubt before he turned away again. "O-okay, boss. I'll hit the street."

"And I guess that's my cue to check the merc circuit," Rhodey added.

"Great. Keep me informed."

The two men filed out. After a moment, Tony focused his attention on Jocie. "Is there something else?"

"Yes, Tony. You and I have to talk about your fainting spell last week."

"It wasn't a fainting spell," Tony retorted.

Jocie walked up to her friend. "Call it what you want, Tony, but you went unconscious seconds after we defeated the Heavy Metal Team. I hate to think what would have happened if the battle cuntinued beyond that moment."

"But it didn't."

"Look, Tony," Jocasta said, letting her appearance revert to that of the silvery android she was, "You're surrounded by a lot of people who love and respect you. You've got me, Jack, James, Bethany--all of whom are capable of protecting you while you recover. You can't go into battle at the drop of the hat anymore."

"I'm fine," Tony replied, looking into Jocasta's eyes. "I've operated the armor in worse condition."

"And you shouldn't have done it then, either!" Jocasta sighed and rubbed Tony's arm. "Let _us_ take care of you for a while, Tony--like you've taken care of us."

Tony paused. He started slowly making his way back to his desk. "I'll think about it," he said simply. Jocasta watched him for a moment and walked away.

Happy sat in front of Bambi Arborgast's desk and adjusted his collar. He was sweating; in all the time that he had been a boxer he never showed fear the way he was showing it now.

"So you haven't told Mr. Stark yet?" Mrs. Arborgast asked. Her fingers were poised above the keyboard of her computer, as if ready to strike at a moment's notice.

"Nu-nyah," Happy replied. "He's got lots on his mind right now and I didn't want to mess with him."

"I'd rather you tell him before I process your resignation," Mrs. A told him. "I think he'd want to hear it from you personally."

"Yeah, I know." Happy shifted in his chair. "It's just...I don't got nothing here to stay for, you know?"

"I understand. But before I put the final pen stroke on this, I still want you to give it twenty-four, okay?"

Happy hesitated, but eventually nodded his head.

The man with the first name of Murder smirked. "My, but you do want to be well informed, Ms. Frost."

"This is not a game, Moomji," Masque warned. Her grip on the gun was steady. "If you're not careful, you'll see how much it's _not_ a game."

"But it is, Ms. Frost. My father..." For a moment, Satsujin paused as if trying to recall something before continuing. "My father taught me that life is a game, and there is nothing left for any of us but competition. The only question is who is running the show and who is a piece on the board."

"You seem very relaxed for a man who is about to die."

"But I am not going to die, Ms. Frost." Satsujin went to his desk and retrieved a set of keys. "What I am going to do is show you just where you lie on the board."

"Enough stalling! Give me the answers I need."

"I'll do better than that, my lovely, if you'll just take a walk with me."

The strange cluster of colored lights played along the edge of the monitor. Jack Hart turned away from the screen to face the gathered personages around him. Only two--Carol Danvers and Scott Lang--were physically there; the other three were watching remotely.

"That formation represents the advance scout of the Stark Invasion Fleet. They have just entered our solar system, and will be here in a matter of days--maybe as soon as a week."

The older man with gray streaked hair shifted his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. "Yer tellin' me you and Stark sat on this for months? SHIELD shoulda been informed right from the get go."

"And the Avengers as well," added the strikingly attractive brunette on the left screen. "We could have scrambled a team of reservists to the edge of the system to intercept them."

"That's my fault, Mrs. Pym," Jack replied. "I didn't really think to bring you into this."

"I should have said something as well, Jan," Carol added. "Sorry."

The sandy haired man on the right hand screen cleared his throat. He was Hank Pym, the leader of the Avengers West Coast division. "So why tell us now?"

"So we can prepare," Jack said simply.

"With all due respect, Mr. Hart, this couldn't have come at a worse time for us," Janet replied. "We've a rogue member to contain before she overruns this planet, not to mention the disaster that was the Midnight City..."

"Jan," Carol said, calmly but firmly. "You've told me of the troubles you've encountered with Nebula and her crew before. I've had some experience with the Uncreated during my tenure with the Starjammers, and while we believe they're not directly involved, their influence makes the Stark a formidable foe. We _need_ everyone on alert."

"I'm not saying we won't be," Janet replied. "I'm just saying The Avengers' resources are presently stretched thin."

"What can you tell us about the Stark? We've heard of them from the Guardians of the Galaxy, but other than that..." asked Hank.

Jack pressed a button on his console. An estimated schematic of a typical Stark armor came up. "We know the Stark is a race from the future who are seeking refuge in the past for some undisclosed reason. At some point before the Uncreated's defeat at the hands of the Shi'ar, the Stark encountered these, for lack of a better term, alien atheistic missionaries."

"The Uncreated," Carol added, "preach a self-determinist gospel that centers around the destruction of God. The Stark, who probably were hurting from being hurled back into time and struggling to survive, took that gospel to heart. And Nebula agreed to lead them here."

"You have to assume their armor was in advance of the present Iron Man system initially," Jack said. "But I've seen them in action, and their present configurations are hodge podge amalgams. They may be more on our level than we suspect."

"Then we better scramble," Fury replied.

"With all due respect, Colonel Fury," Jan said. "We've had first hand experience with Nebula, and it will take more than SHIELD to repel her, or even slow her down."

"But we can do other things. You said this Stark is after Tony?"

"That's right, Colonel Fury," Carol replied. "If the Stark are coming to destroy their god and free themselves from the shackles of religion, then Mr. Stark is going to be their prime target."

"I'll get a contingent of SHIELD agents there straight away."

"Have you notified the other hero groups--the Fantastic Four or the X-Men, for example?" Hank asked.

"We will do that," Jack replied. "Although it might have more weight coming from the Avengers than from me. I am only a minor player at best."

"Good point," Jan said. "We'll be in touch soon, Jack. Keep us in the loop."

"Oh, it is beautiful, Mr. Snare."

"That it is, ma'am. I promised my Master I would bring him forth from the grave, and now we see the culmination of that promise."

_My Rook--and Indries...how pleasant._

"He looks so frail in there."

_I am frail. I am nothing but a spirit, a consciousness held together, according to the curious young man who thinks he is my son, by a strong tokamak field._

"Do you like him, my love?"

_I wish I could understand him...we never--_

"Not in this lifetime, my dear one, but your scientists managed to bring him together through DNA manipulation. He is your son genetically, if not biologically."

"My master, are you ready for the testing of the system by which you will take charge of your new body?"

_I would like that, my Rook. I am particularly curious about the nature of this new body that my 'son' has for me._

"Do not worry, my love. The body you will appropriate is a temporary one until we can procure the one that we think you would like the most."

_Which is?_

"Tony Stark's, my master."

"Tell you the truth, I'm worrying about whether I should resign."

Pepper Potts Hogan looked sideways at Scott Lang. "You can't be serious."

"Well, yeah. I mean, Pep--look at what I just sat in on. A debriefing with SHIELD and the Avengers about an eminent alien invasion," Scott replied. "I'm a little outclassed here."

"But Tony needs you right now. You're the only other person who knows the new armor as well as he does. Until it's been thoroughly tested..."

"I know." Scott briefly wondered if he should come clean with her, let her know he had more than a practical knowledge of heroing. _But that would lead me to talking about the Fantastic Four, and about Sue--_

_--and about the fact that facing menaces like this_ scares_ me_.

"I think you should stay," Pepper said plainly. "Mr. Stark has been helping you get new clients, and even if he wasn't..."

"I know." Scott looked around. "I just feel, you know, awkward around here. Like I don't belong."

Pepper placed a hand on his cheek, guided his eyes to hers. She smiled softly. "You're not awkward to me. And I think you belong here."

A hundred thoughts rushed through Scott's head. He riffled through a hundred responses, ranging from the witty to the self-depreciating to the humble. All were discarded in favor of a single action.

He kissed her.

It was a light kiss, barely a brush of flesh against flesh. When he pulled away, his heart was pounding like he had run a marathon, and his head was filled with the urge to flee. Instead he looked the attractive redhead with the spray of freckles across the bridge of her nose straight in the eyes. "You'd think so, huh?" he asked with an unsteady, lopsided smile.

In a way, Bethany Cabe was aware of the Celeste woman for some time before she introduced herself. She was busy in the small room Tony had put aside for her temporary office, looking over the billable hours her partner Ling McPherson had faxed over when she became aware of another presence watching her. It was something Beth had become acclimated to throughout her years, first as a bodyguard and then as part of the Avengers support staff.

"Ummm, Ms. Cabe," Karyn Celeste said in a very small voice.

Bethany looked up and gave Karyn the same friendly, open smile she gave a potential client. She rose and extended her hand. "Good afternoon, Ms. Celeste. Nice to finally formally meet you. What can I do for you?"

"Well, ummm," Karyn said before letting the answer trail off.

Bethany had done some research on all the new people in Tony's life since agreeing to return to the fold as his temporary bodyguard and security consultant; from reading the articles and files on her, Beth's impression was that Karyn Celeste was a very capable, vibrant and take charge woman. Much like her, Karyn appeared determined to blaze her own trails and become the mistress of her own fate. This was a formidable presence, someone Bethany could learn to respect.

Which is why it puzzled her that Karyn had behaved like a shy high schooler in every encounter with her so far. She continued smiling softly. "Yes?"

"I need to know," Karyn finally said in fits and starts, "Your intentions in regards to Tony."

Bethany stood there, stunned. She rolled the statement around in her head before echoing, "My...intentions."

"Well, yeah." Karyn straightened up. "Look, I know Tony's history. It's not like it's a state secret or anything. I know you and Tony were real close. I know you helped Tony out in some dark times, and that--well, the rumor was you two may have been thinking of marriage."

Bethany smirked. She still would have liked to get hands on _that_ rumormonger.

"And now I find out you're Iron Man, and I'm thinking you've always been a lot closer to Tony than I've been led to believe and--"

Bethany raised her hands. "Hold on, Ms. Celeste. Let me clear that last bit up. I wore the Iron Man armor for a bit, sure--but only because the real Iron Man had to step down for personal reasons. One of my duties on this assignment, in fact, is finding a new candidate for the position."

"The real Iron Man...quit?" A look of confusion came over Karyn's face.

"In a way. There is some turnover in the suit, believe me. Tony even had to fire one."

"Wow." Karyn paused, then waved her hand. "No matter--I just need to know what your intentions are. I mean, I know Tony and I don't have the history the two of you have, but I think there's good potential in us. I just need to know if I'm in for competition."

Bethany wondered if she should tell the woman about some advice given to her from Marianne Rogers, advice that acknowledged the feelings even she didn't want to admit were still lying near the surface in her mind. Instead she chuckled. "My intentions? Calm down, Ms. Celeste. My intentions are to protect my friend during this transitionary time, to find a new candidate scrupulous enough to be Iron Man, and to set up the security protocols for the new Stark International if Tony happens to make the right deal with the Fujikawas. In short, I plan on doing what I was hired to do."

Karyn paused. She let out a long, shuddering sigh. "I know. It's just, you're so _important_ to his life."

"And I can remain an important _friend_...nothing more," Bethany assured the woman.

And in the back of her head, Bethany Cabe wondered if she was inadvertently setting the young executive up for an emotional fall.

The object was the size of a cigarette pack. Its dull metallic sheen revealed circuitry etched on its surface, but only if a person looked closely. It was designed to utilize as many analogs to the circuitry contained within the house as possible so that it would be rendered 'invisible' to scans and sweeps. It had laid in a crevice between file cabinets for a week, left there by an armored intruder who called himself the Knight.

No one noticed; the object was shoved far back by the Knight's photon lance. Because of its unassuming shape, it didn't stick out much to those who passed the cabinets by.

At 9:37 p.m., after lying between two file cabinets for a week, the object came to life.

Tony Stark walked the corridors of his home?-- home that had served as the headquarters for Stark Solutions for the last two years--and wondered if he was doing the right thing.

Stark Solutions had been doing some good. Tony had no doubt about that. The Web Voyager software alone had raised enough profits for Tony to divert to several charitable organizations at risk, street level concerns that fed the homeless and trained the poor to fend for themselves. But people still weren't remembering him for the proactive stance he was taking now. They remembered him as the playboy, the bonviant, the businessman.

Maybe he could do even more good with that reputation back in deed as well as in word.

His cane's metal tip clicked against the marble of the corridor leading to the elevator. As always, the urge was to tinker; he was able to think and reason better while he was elbow deep in circuits and solder and wires. Balancing carefully, he stabbed the down button with the cane.

"Should be some room for refinement in one of the modes," he said quietly to himself. The Living Iron armor was still new, which meant it was in a state of flux. Even after he donned a new armor, he still tinkered with the peripherals and configuration. There were moments where his ideas were not the best--the few weeks where he had the nose put on still caused him to chuckle--but it was part of the ritual.

What wasn't part of the ritual was when the elevator doors slid open and a red-and-gold wraith from the past reached out and grabbed him.

She sat in her command chair on the bridge and contemplated the trio before her.

They all wore armor that concealed their identities, armor that was sleek and refined except for spots that belied that impression. Some joints were composed of exposed cable and wiring. Some plates were dented and scuffed. The one thing that unified them was their helmets. The helmets, all shiny and well cared for, were identical. Green in color with yellow eyeslits and spiked protuberances radiating from the top, they were designed to emulate the alien race that inspired them on their new crusade.

The three beings who appeared before her were of the Stark, and they were on a mission to kill their God.

"When will we arrive?" the one in the center asked. His armor was better kept than the others; only a few spots showed the abuse and patched-together indicative of the others. He was Laserface, their leader.

"Soon, my allies," she said, a slight smile playing upon her indigo lips. "We have just entered the solar system where Anthony Stark lives."

"We must go faster," Laserface insisted. "We have traveled many years--both temporal and light--to get to this place. For us to be uncreated like our brethren, Anthony Stark must be die."

"In uncreation lies liberation," one of Laserface's fellows added. Her smile widened slightly. She wondered what these fanatics would think if they learned that her grandfather went on to 

fancy himself a god in his own right, or that her father endeavored to be a destroyer of worlds in revenge for Galactus destroying their own.

"Patience, patience," she said. "You must learn to savor the anticipation of victory as I have over many, many years."

"We have anticipated this moment for years," Laserface replied. "We did not realize until meeting our brethren that we have been anticipating this for eons."

"I am positive you have," she said, motioning to the young Rigellian to her right. "But you trusted me to orchestrate your moment of uncreation, my little ones, and you must trust me a little while longer. You will slay your God, and become uncreated."

She checked the logs in the Rigellian's hand and signed off on them. Her blue skin grew slightly flush as she thought of the pain and anguish she was about to cause in the Stark's wake. She fantasized briefly about confronting the grandfather who would not acknowledge her and letting him know that she had done what he could not; maybe then she would be allowed to sit at the Death Bringer's right hand.

And she told Laserface, "Trust in the grand daughter of Thanos, my allies, and all things will be possible."

Tony felt cold metal holding his neck in place. A hand, also metal-shod, put pressure on his head. Tony gritted his teeth, afraid that his intruder was going to snap his neck.

_But it wasn't an intruder, was it?_ he thought. Acting on instinct, Tony slapped the down button. With a lurch, the elevator began its descent. For a moment, his attacker was off balance, and Tony used that fact to throw him over and into the far wall.

He was right. What had lunged out from the elevator and tried to kill him was his Telepresence Armor unit. The thing was sprawled upside down, struggling to get to its feet. Its eyeslits glowed a faint, luminescent blue.

Tony sputtered and coughed, trying to find his voice again.

The Telepresence armor got to its knees. The helmet shook as if the wearer was stunned?

_But the Telepresence Unit_ can't _be stunned. It's a remote controlled robot_

--looked up at Tony and said, "Hello, old friend."

It raised its right arm as if to fire a repulsor blast.

Tony coughed and said in a hoarse voice, "Enable Default Mode."

Immediately, what appeared molten metal flowed from receptacles in Tony's back and encased him, special nanotech machines configuring the outer shell into the requested golden and red armor. Tony's helmet, resembling a primitive golden skull, seemed to grin in the 

overhead fluorescents. He raised an arm and activated a shimmering energy shield just in time to deflect the Telepresence Unit's attack.

"That is new," the Telepresence Unit responded.

Tony raised his hand and unleashed a force bolt. The Telepresence Unit was blasted out of the elevator just as it hit the skunkworks floor. The animate armor tumbled end over end and landed near one of the diagnostic consoles. Tony stepped forward and noticed the soft blue light from the armor's eyeslits was gone.

"What the...?"

He was hit hard from behind. "I really must apologize to my son. I was unsure about this method of transpossession, but it's actually quite effective."

Tony spun around, letting fire with a series of repulsor snap shots. He caught a very brief glimpse of something white and magenta fading from view before feeling his knees buckle.

_Damn, the new Stealth Armor!_ Tony sent a command to the neural interface that controlled the new armor. The expanded cuff of his right gauntlet seemed to reconfigure. In seconds, the room was filling up with a fine white mist. The outline of the Stealth Armor was revealed. Tony launched off and barreled into the intruder.

The Stealth Armor clattered to the floor in pieces. As he got to his feet, Tony whispered, "Who the Hell?"

"Who else, my greatest opponent?" From out of nowhere, the Silver Centurion armor appeared. Tony's head was snapped back by the punch. Tony fired off his rail gun, sending the boxy, robotic looking armor backward into the row of display cases for his old equipment. The Silver Centurion armor seemed to collapse as it hit the ground.

In the display case housing the Safe armor, the elements that would glow with energy became suffused with a bluish light. The armor, the most recent suit Tony wore, burst the lexam and fires pulse bolts at Tony's feet. "Pity. I would have enjoyed destroying you in that last armor. Seeing as you destroyed me in it."

"Mister, I don't know what you're talking about," Tony shot back and fired some pulse bolts of his own. One caused the right arm of the Safe Armor to crack. The armor screamed.

"Mu--must remember there's some form of feedback involved when the vessel is injured," the intruder said. He shot a freon capsule at Tony, which froze around him.

Within the solid ice shell, Tony said, "Enable Heavy Mode."

The ice around him cracked as the armor reconfigured. The silhouette grew bulkier, wider. Cables snaked out and connected with the cuffs of the gauntlets, which grew a number of apertures at regular intervals. The shoulder pads grew heavier, and a device like a small cannon sprung up over the right shoulder. There was a muffled click from within the ice prison--

And then the ice sheath exploded outward in a flurry of cold shrapnel. Pieces of ice pierced the Safe Armor, which clattered to the ground.

What Tony emerged wearing was intimidating. It still retained the gold on red color motif of the other two armors, but seemed to owe more to the War Machine ordnance than anything Iron Man would wear. He extended his gauntlets. The cuffed whirred with a rapid clicking sound, and the display cases were riddled with shellfire.

A double shot of repulsors ripped across the Heavy Mode configuration, the blast coming courtesy of the armor Tony wore immediately after the armor wars. "I should have had you slaughtered when you were lying in the gutter lost in alcohol induced dreams," it snarled.

Tony turned face the red and gold intruder. The cuffs rotated again until they rested on one oval shaped aperture. "You still haven't answered my question! Who the Hell are you?"

Two incendiary bombs burst across the intruder's chest. He laughed, the noise becoming an electronic buzz. The flames burned briefly, then went out. "Who am I, old friend?" the armor asked. It fired his Uni-Beam at the advancing Tony, which caused him to stumble. The cannon on his shoulder adjusted its position and fired a coruscating blast of energy at the intruder.

"What?"

"That's a beam of magnetized plasma. Pretty rough on circuitry, isn't it?" He fired another volley of rail gun shot from the gauntlets. The intruder cried out in pain as the armor cracked and pitted. The blue glow went out, only to appear again in the gray confines of the armor Tony used as 'therapy' when he was recovering from alcoholism. The bulky suit flung itself at Tony, pinning him against a massive armature.

"What I am, old friend," the intruder continued as it smashed the Silver Centurion armor against Tony, "is a Grandmaster of the game. And you are losing."

Tony fired his Uni-Beam in a wide sweep, pushing back the Undersea Armor and his original golden armor. But the Safe Armor smashed into him, adding its bulk to keep Tony pinned. Then came the modular Armor, and the Classic and the--

Within minutes, Tony was buried beneath the history of his costumed identity.

Already servomotors were working to boost his strength. The magnetic enhancer kicked in, increasing his muscle power tenfold. He saw black dots along the periphery of his vision, and felt dizzy. As he began moving the bulk of the armors out of the way, the HUD started flashing.

Attempted override of genetic protocols. Security countermeasures activated.

He heard the scream in his speakers. It sounded not only like pain, but rage.

As the noise died out in Tony's head, any evidence of the so-called Grandmaster was gone. Colors were dimming in his vision. He activated the cell link and called the one person he 

suspected would believe the nagging suspicion in his mind as to who visited him. And then everything went black.

Indries Moomji came to the service entrance accompanied by the new Rook. A former Raider, the armor he wore was massive, as wide as it was tall and with large blocks of adamantium riding his gloved. It was designed to look like a living castle, and was meant to be physically powerful.

She glared down at the woman in the yellow and blue costume. "Spymaster. My son did not ask you here. You know the rules."

The woman physically bristled at Indries' imperious statement. "It's Spymistress now, Ms. Moomji, and I am in my rights for coming here."

She unsnapped one of the pouches at her belt and produced a small 8mm-video cassette. "He told me to see him when I got any more information about Tony Stark and what he's doing," she continued. "And what the litte microcameras I planted in Stark Solutions discovered is a doozy. All his for a price."

Indries pulled herself up to her full height. "And what is on this tape?"

"Let me ask you this," the Spymistress said.

"What would you do with advance knowledge of an alien invasion?"

Rhodey helped Tony to the nearest chair once the Heavy configuration was deactivated. "Man, Tones, what happened to you? And this room--"

"Someone calling himself the Grandmaster ambushed me. He was able to possess all my old armors, but made the mistake of trying to take this one. Unlucky for him."

"Man," Rhodey said. He picked up the cracked helmet of the Undersea armor. "You did this?"

Tony ventured a smile, but immediately winced in pain. "That mode you saw...is for only the worst...situations. The power drain...is incredible." "On the armor or yourself? This is the second time you've been laid out wearing this new thing." "Never mind, Rhodey."

James Rhodes made to say something, but stopped. He pulled out his cellphone and said, "I'll get Jack and Jocie. We'll set up a posse and track down this mutha before he can get out of town."

"God help me, I don't think that's necessary. We've met him before, you and I."

Rhodey stood stock still. "Who you talking about? It can't be the Mandarin again. He was still on his anti-tech kick, and he's dead and all."

"It's not the Mandarin, Rhodey--although I'm afraid our Grandmaster is already dead."

"What do you mean?"

Tony rubbed his face. "During the fight, the intruder made certain comments about my time on the Bowery that made me think something impossible was going on. But it's the only answer left. It explains Satsujin Moomji's obsessive use and knowledge of my own history against me."

He looked his oldest friend in the eye. "Rhodey, I've got to see if this is the truth before we send in the whole squad. Because if I'm right, Obediah Stane has made his way back from the dead."


	27. Pieces On Board

Iron Man

Chapter 27: Pieces On Board

**Scott Lang**

I suppose I should have believed it when she said it. I'd come to trust Pepper Potts-Hogan more than I trusted anyone in the last few weeks since I became a consultant to Stark Solutions. But even though what she was saying made sense--it was perfectly logical and in keeping with what I'd learned about Tony--I still found myself standing in front of her in disbelief.

"You mean he up and left? Didn't even get Jo to back him up?"

Pepper shook her head. She was hugging herself, and the sour look on her face made it clear she wasn't happy. "You haven't been around him long, Scott. Tony...he has a habit of taking things personally. He doesn't like asking for help when something like this occurs. One time, Jack and some other friends of his had to force their help down his throat."

"But he's been having problems with the armor. I've been working with Jocasta to correct the bioelectrical drain on him. He could be in serious trouble if--"

She looked up at me, her eyes flashing. "Don't you think I know that? If I had to count the times I've had to stand by and watch him go to his death, I'd--"

I walked over and took her in my arms. "I know, Pep. I know."

She rested her head on my shoulder and just sighed. "Why won't he learn we're here, Scott?"

I couldn't answer that.

**Satsujin Moomji**

There have been times in the coming months where I think my whole life has been leading up to this moment.

He comes towards the main gates in the new armor of his. My father claims he tried to steal control away from Stark and failed due to new countermeasures. I am secretly glad that my father failed. If he had succeeded in usurping Stark's new armor, he would not need me and what I planned for him.

It feels like I will cease to be once my father gets what he wants.

It's odd, isn't it? That I think in terms of 'ceasing to be' instead of 'dying.'

I press the button on the intercom. "This is your moment, my Chessman. Make Iron Man work for his death."

**Jack Hart**

I step into the Avengers West farsending equipment--brought to me for this sole use--and punch in the coordinates I gleaned this morning. A laser light runs over my body, scans me and turns me into a discrete holographic image for the edification of the people I wish to contact.

I'm wearing my armor. I didn't want to, but that's how the woman I was contacting knows me, and that's how it was decided I should look. If it were up to me, I'd take another bath in that neutralizing mist Tony Stark came up with for me and do this show in civilian garb. But with my luck, it'd only speed the invasion fleet...

You know, I understand that the armor is the only thing that can contain the Contraxian energies that course through my veins. I know that if I didn't have that set of treated chain mail, I'd wipe out most of Seattle in an instant. I just don't understand how people like Iron Man can _stand_ being trapped inside suits of armor for even short periods of time. I hate being encased in this thing; even thinking about having to put it on again when my energies are neutralized makes my flesh crawl.

The machine takes a few minutes to locate the coordinates and send the tightbeam communiqué up. It takes another minute to set up a similar link and project a holographic image to the farsending chamber. But once all that is done, the walls around me are transformed into a simulacrum of the flagship of the Stark Invasion fleet. They can't hurt me, I can't hurt them--but other than that, it's like we're kicking back on the bridge together waiting for Captain Kirk.

And believe me, Captain Kirk would want to kick it with Nebula. At least until she tore out his heart and ate it.

The blue-skinned cutie may look like a super-model, but she just happens to be the most dangerous woman in the universe. I'd gone toe to toe with her twice, and both times I was surprised to leave with my life. She's flanked by two goons in what looks to be cobbled-together armor, their helmets a unified, shiny green with spikes radiating outward from the brow.

One of the armored types takes a step forward and asks, "Tell me, Terran...do you have a God?'

And the negotiations begin...

**Tony Stark**

The first line of Moomji's defenses is released the second I fly over the front gate. There are two of them, and they rise up out of one of the garages. Their armor is a uniform midnight blue in color and their design scheme--while updated--is familiar.

"I should have known," I say as I let fire with a double repulsor shot. "If it's Stane, there must be Chessman."

"Man, I have been _so_ waiting for this!" the one whose helmet and breastplate are designed to resemble a bishop's cassock and miter says.

"You and me both," agrees the one who resembles a knight. He balls his hands up into fists. A shimmering shield and lance appear as if from nowhere.

I use my chin toggle to switch my gauntlets to pulse mode. I fire at the Knight, who is sent flying. I turn to the Bishop, preparing to fire at him. Instead, I shield my eyes as my foeman begins to glow a bright, heavenly yellow.

The Bishop chortles. "I'm gonna make you see the light, my son!"

"Please," I shoot back as the polarizing lenses in my armor adjust. "That one was too easy. Unlike this!"

I arm my rail gun. Two balls of highly compressed iron slag roll into the barrel that runs underneath my right arm assembly. The magnetic field generator rapidly cycles to life and, without a second's thought, the balls are fired at the Bishop. He's driven back, the impact cracking his breastplate. I get a moment's rest before I feel the tip of the Knight's cyber-lance buried in the spot between my shoulder blades.

"We always thought you were a jerk, Iron Man," The Knight says. His lance disappears. I turn to face him and see that my opponent now wields a morningstar made of shimmering energy. He swings it at me and I hold up my arm, letting its chain wrap around my wrist. A quick tug and he's within striking distance.

"And where have I seen you two before?" I ask him before smashing him in the face with my fist. He stumbles but doesn't fall away; my grip on his chain keeps him here.

"Not two," gasps the Knight and kicks me in the shin. The blow _pings_ off my armor hollowly and does nothing to impede my progress.

Then I find out why he did what he did.

"THREE!" calls out a third voice, this one booming with bass. I am slammed in the back and brought forward, my only perception of this new entrant into the fight are two massive arms with large gauntlets, the cuffs of these gloves ending in a design similar to a parapet. The sense I'm getting from the pressure on my back is that this new enemy is _enormous_.

I should have known there would be a Rook.

**Happy Hogan**

The priest eyes me up and down as he peruses my resume. He's got a slight South African accent. "You know why sort of place this is?"

"Yeah," I say with a shrug.

"We're not one of the richer parishes either, son. This soup kitchen, the Thrift Store--they're not going to keep you in the way you're probably expecting to be kept in."

I nod. "Don't worry about that, Father. I learned a lot when I was a prizefighter, and one of the things I learned is save for a rainy day and live light, you know? I packed away enough working for Stark Solutions that I can live okay on what you're paying."

The priest looked at me as if he didn't know what to say. He drew in closer and asked, "But why would you leave that position, son? You were doing good work for the community--more good work than you could do here--and you were being paid a good sight better than we can. It can't be guilt for being venal or anything like that..."

"Nyah, it's just..." I let myself trail off as I gathered my thoughts. I'm not like Tony or Pepper, always ready with the right line. I have to struggle to get things ordered correctly. "I don't have a place there anymore. They don't see it, but I do. My place is down here, on the streets."

"Well, if that's what you're wanting," the priest said as he rose up and offered me his hand, "then welcome aboard, Mr. Hogan."

**Tony Stark**

This new Rook throws me like a bull. I fly end over end, my boot gyros working overtime to stabilize me. As I struggle, the Bishop flies past, sending forth laser beams that rake my refractory coating. I turn and snap off a pair of pulse bolts that hit him in the right side.

The new Rook is even more immense than I guessed. He practically fills my field of vision--a literal living castle. As he approaches, two triangular blocks of gleaming metal slide onto the back of his fists. "Man, I knew this was gonna happen--but it's still sweet!" he tells the others as he throws a fist. I try to dodge, but the blow still glances off my shoulder. The armor cracks with a rifle shot like sound, and I feel my arm going numb.

I rotate slightly and place my boots on the Rook's chest. "Nice toys--what are they?" I ask as I fire my jets right into him.

It does almost nothing.

A shooting pain runs up my spine--the Knight has switched back to his lance. "Pure adamantium blocks--hardest stuff on Earth, shell-head."

"They'll crack you open like a walnut," the Rook adds as he descends, his gauntlet flashing in the sun.

I pull backwards, and immediately get slammed with the Knight's shield. I reach behind hand grab the man's neck. Two repulsor blasts keep the Rook's attention focused on me. I grit my teeth and wait as the leviathan comes barreling down on me, my instincts screaming at me to get out of the way lest he crack me open like an eggshell--

--which I do, but not before throwing the Knight into his path. The sound of his armor cracking was music to my ears.

**Jocasta**

"You want to ask me exactly how much I like it, Dr. Pym?" the silvery robot asked, bitterness in its voice.

"Jocasta--if I accept Ultron as a son, you're family to me. You can call me Henry," Hank Pym replied. He sat in the living room above Tony Stark's 'skunkworks,' sipping coffee. "I just hope Jack can get the Stark Armada to turn around, or at the very least delay it somewhat. With Jan's team off confronting Wanda, well..."

"I know," Jocasta said. She shook her head. "Was Tony always like this?"

"Like what?"

"Running off at a moment's notice with no regard for what's happening to his body--treating everything like a personal matter and forgetting the larger picture."

Hank smiled softly. "I would imagine you've got access to other people more able to make that assessment--Beth, for example. But if you're asking me, I have to say that yes, he has always been like that."

"But with all the bugs in his new armor, and the impending threat that impacts directly on him, why did he have to go and confront Satsujin Moomji _now_?"

Hank put down his coffee mug. "Jocasta, how much do you know about Tony's dealings with Obediah Stane?"

"Only what he's told me," the android admitted.

Hank put a hand over his friend's wrist. "Let me tell you a fuller version of the situation."

**Tony Stark**

The minute the Rook collided with the Knight, I was in the fray, my magnetic intensifiers increasing the strength behind my blows. My fists glowed and began to distort in the light as the EMF surrounded them. I hit hard, focusing on the cracks in the Knight's armor caused by the Rook's adamantium pounders. Bits of metal and ceramic came flying off the man's person.

I could see the other two Chessmen out of the corner of my eye converging. I flew high and over, trying to put as much distance away from them as possible.

The Knight seemed to teeter on one boot jet. It seems I had disabled him pretty badly.

"Enable Heavy Mode," I sub-vocalized.

It takes roughly five seconds for the Living Iron Control System to switch modes. I knew was vulnerable during that brief passage of time. The Rook began climbing higher, probably thinking--rightfully so--that he had done the most damage to me.

By the time the Heavy Armor is fully in place, he's right on top of me. He smashes his right pounder into me before I can raise the Omni Gun. I feel a sharp pain in my chest.

I keep telling myself it's a reaction from the force of the blow.

I keep telling myself the beta-particle scoops are working at maximum efficiency at this altitude.

I keep telling myself I'm not having a heart attack.

And the Bishop rakes my back with laser fire.

**Bethany Cabe**

I was of mixed feelings when I received word that SHIELD was stepping in to help protect Tony.

Let's be clear on this--the announcement hurt my feelings. Cabe McPherson built its business on being _good_, on taking care of their clients themselves. Tony was one of the people who helped build up that reputation, and basically being told that I was inadequate to keep him alive was...well, it wasn't sitting all that well with me.

But then, this was an alien invasion, and Tony's death was one of the desired outcomes of the invaders so...

And then there was the personal factor, but that's something I didn't want to deal with.

When word came that the SHIELD liaison had arrived, I discreetly removed myself from the living room. Jocasta and Hank Pym were talking super-hero shop and I didn't mind the break. Besides, what Hank was about to tell her--I didn't want to hear about it.

Look, I'll admit it--I kept tabs on Tony after I left him to tend to my now-late husband. He--it's so hard not to when you achieved the level of intimacy he and I had. I heard third and fourth hand of how he had fallen off the wagon, how he had disgraced both himself and Iron Man, and how he had allowed his company to fall into the hands of Stane, but still...

I blame myself, all right? When the lights are low and I lie in bed, I keep thinking that if I had chosen Tony instead of Alexander--.

I strode to the foyer that served as Mrs. Arborgast's domain, one part reception area and one part interrogation chamber. Rhodey was standing next to a tall man in a loud checked sports jacket and carefully creased dress slacks. He wore black rimmed glasses and had a spray of freckles along the bridge of his nose.

If I didn't know any better, I would have sworn he was someone Tony knew from before me. But I had heard Jasper Sitwell had died or was retired or something like that.

"There you go,' Rhodey said, pointing me out. "This is the woman you want to talk to."

The man strode forward, one hand extended. He looked so...un-spy-like it was shocking. But then common sense whispered in my ear, pointing out that a spy that looked like a spy would most likely be a corpse.

"Good day, I'm Bethany Cabe, Mr. Stark's personal bodyguard and head of security."

"Good day to you, too, ma'am. My name is Casper Sitwell, and I will be heading the SHIELD contingent assigned to this spot."

I took his hand. "You're not--"

"Nephew, ma'am. Colonel Fury thought my familial ties would come in handy in instilling trust."

In spite of myself, I smiled. "They may at that. Come on through."

**Tony Stark**

I let fire with the Omni Gun straight into the Rook's chest, not even bothering to check its setting. He's hit with a magnetized plasma stream. He freezes up as the magnetic charge briefly de-polarizes his suit.

Utilizing the optic interface I had wired into the new armor (utilizing your artificial nervous system as an O/S does have its advantages), I prep the gattling attachment in my right gauntlet and let loose with a cloud of fine freon mist. It surrounds me, dropping the temperature slightly--although that's not the primary reason I called it up.

But it does give me a new strategy for dealing with the massive opponent in front of me. I increase the Freon stream, aiming it directly for the Rook's chest. The Rook is slowly beginning to regain control of his armor and throws another punch. He's slowed down enough I duck the blow easily before giving him a knife-edge chop to the chest. His chest plate shatters into a riot of high-tech icicles.

The Bishop circles around and fired his laser array--only to have it diffused by the condensation and mist I've surrounded myself with. I move myself into the reach of the Rook and throw him over my shoulder, putting his prodigious bulk in between my foe and myself.

The Knight slowly rises to meet me, still teetering on his one good boot jet. His gauntlets shimmer, producing a sword and shield. "You're not knocking us out of the sky again, Tin Man."

I work the chin toggle that controls the Omni gun until I get the right setting. "Guess again," I hiss as I send a blast of electricity his way.

It isn'tt enough to knock the Knight out of the sky, but the Rook's misdirected blow had created enough hairline fractures in his carapace for the electrical surge to get through. The Knight spasms like an epileptic and falls to the Earth.

"Rook--get the Knight. I'll--"

I whirl around, my Omni Gun aimed squarely at the Bishop's head. "You'll what?"

**Nebula**

Not long ago, the Jack Of Hearts was my enforced guest as I dueled with Genis Mar-Vell over some bauble or other. I had spent some time with him, mostly with an eye toward turning him against his friend. I had believed that there was nothing I did not know about this pathetic little boy.

The Stark taught me I was wrong.

"Tell me Terran, do you have a god?' Laserface asked him once he presented himself to us.

I had expected the usual Terran bluster. They're good at that, these primates with an exaggerated sense of self-worth.

Instead, the Jack of Hearts paused, lowered his head and mumbled, "I don't...I don't think so, any more."

"Then you may yet be spared," the Stark leader said.

"So, Jack, how do you propose to waste my time this day?" I asked.

Jack looked up. "I'm not wasting your time, Nebula--_you're_ wasting your time. I've been reading the Avengers File on you, and it looks like they've kicked your blue butt every time you've come calling. What makes you think this time is any different?"

I smiled and held open my arms. "Look at my friends, Jack. Look at them. Every one of the Stark has treated the words of Anthony Stark as a religion. I have been impressed by these pilgrims. Even the lowliest of their number is your precious Iron Man's equal."

"The Avengers will find a way to stop--"

"The Avengers are in another dimension right now, Jack," I said forcefully. "And that pathetic circus they use to train their lap dogs is splintered right now. You should have joined with me when I offered you the chance--_I_ hold the power now."

"Those that have gods," Laserface added, "should be told to prepare. They must throw off their chains and become Uncreated--or we will uncreate them for their own good."

"You stand before me without allies, without those who have vexed me time and time again," I said as I leaned back into my command chair. "The Stark will be triumphant this time...and Nebula will be by their side."

"You've said things like that before, Nebula," Jack retorted. "I want you to remember that when we kick your butts back to Alpha Centauri."

I laughed long and loud at that bravado. My fingers strayed toward the buttons on my right armrest. "This audience is over. Prepare yourself for landfall."

With a flick of a button, a jamming signal shut down the commlink.

I sat back, contemplating the implications of that little distraction. My ally on Earth was right--if Jack Hart was who they sent to warn me, my time of domination was at hand.

**Tony Stark**

The Bishop hesitates. I suppose I would, too, if I saw my two compatriots laid to waste.

I keep telling myself I didn't need this breather.

I keep telling myself the pain in my chest was from the Rook's earlier blow.

I keep telling myself I'm not going to let Stane get the satisfaction of seeing me die before I even reached him.

Polarized lenses slip into place, and I fire a pair of repulsor blasts at the Bishop. They do little to hurt the man, and he opens up his laser array. As the beams glance off my refractory coating, I make note of the placement of the laser diodes and send a cybernetic message to the gattling attachment to prepare for rail gun payload delivery. With a rhythmic _pokpokpok_, the rail shot is sent flying at the weaponry, smashing each of the emitters handily.

"Ohhhhh _s&_," the Bishop gasps. By that time, I've already barreled into him full force.

My blows are enhanced by the magnetic intensifier, smashing into the Bishop's armor with a tenfold force. He goes limp as I hit the apogee of my ascent and start heading downward.

I keep telling myself the pain is not getting greater.

I keep telling myself I am not making a mistake in forcing Stane's hand now.

I keep telling myself I am switching to Evader Mode because I need its speed, and not because it's the least drain on my resources.

**Mr. Snare**

I learned to love my Master the first time he was alive because he trusted me in what I do.

What I do is trap people. I have done it all my life.

There have been some people who have suggested ever since I began my career as a Maggia enforcer in Naples that I have learned to trap people to compensate for my twisted form. I scoff at that theory. It is one for small minds, ones not capable of understanding the greater subtleties of the games I thirst to play--not like my Master.

Maybe it is because my Master was a Grandmaster at Chess from an early age, but he understands that trapping a person requires not only a physical component--the net or snare that binds them--but a psychological component. There is a reason the punji stick is put at the bottom on the pit, after all. Just being stabbed with a series of sharpened posts would be excruciating enough, but having to look upwards into a world you will never enjoy again...that is the true mechanism of despair.

I have watched the Man of Iron engage the new Chessmen for the last few minutes alongside my Master, his son and his Queen. I expected the Man of Iron to come out triumphant--it is not the first time we have matched wits, and I know to not underestimate him again. But it 

was important for my Master's enemy to struggle and feel he has won a victory, to take pleasure in the tiredness that now infuses his body.

"It is time for you to take the board," I tell the Queen.

She nods and heads off.

**Tony Stark**

I skid across the ground as I hit, not having calculated my landing as well as I would have liked. It's the first time I've used the Evader mode with its increased thrust and greater fuel capacity, and there are still some things I need to take into account.

At least that's what I keep telling myself.

My trajectory takes me through the double glass doors of the Omnus Technologies building and into the darkened lobby. I'm not surprised the place looks like it's closed for the day. I'm sure Stane didn't want to attract attention to himself or his intentions...

"Welcome, Tony," a feminine, familiar voice says as I skid to a halt. I raise my head.

Pepper Potts-Hogan is coming out of the darkness. "He's been waiting--"

The features swim and shimmer, and she becomes Marianne Rogers. "--for this for a long time."

Not Marianne, but Bethany Cabe. "There's no point in calling reinforcements--"

Not Bethany Cabe, but Indries Moomji. "--the second you entered our complex we jammed your communications equipment--"

Not Indries, but Clytemmestra Erwin. "--a little something he picked up from System Crash."

Not Clytemmestra but Rae LaCoste. "Out of consideration for our past association--"

Not Rae, but Janet Van Dyne. "--I'll give you a chance to surrender now--"

Not Janet but Rumiko Fujikawa. "--since I'm not the weak little girl you offered to help so long ago."

Not Rumiko but--

"Whitney," I gasped.

The armor she wears is black and sleek, almost like a second skin. As with the other Chessmen, it is ornately decorated in filigree. Her pistol is still holstered at her side. She chooses not to wear a helmet, letting her golden mask stare out at the world. She extends a hand to me. In the dim light, it looks like she's grinning.

"Masque will do, Tony--or perhaps you'd feel more comfortable calling me your Queen."


	28. Queen Takes Pawn

Iron Man

Chapter 28: Queen Takes Pawn

"Perhaps you'd be more comfortable calling me your Queen."

Tony Stark struggled to get up on his hands and knees in front of Masque. The Whitney Frost of another dimension, Tony was shocked to see her here decked out in armor that identified her as one of Stane's Chessmen. The pain in his chest still throbbed dully. "Whitney, I--I don't understand. I thought we were..."

"Friends, Anthony?" Whitney shot back, raising her arm. "I thought so, too--until you conveniently forgot about the promise you made to me. You became so caught up in Satsujin Moomji and your new armor and your new woman that you just forgot about the promise to make me whole again."

The pain was increasing. "I never...forgot, Whitney. I promise you, I _never_ forgot."

"Liar," Whitney spat out and fired. A fine, thin wire snaked out of her gauntlet and hooked itself onto the edges of Tony's Uni-Beam Projector. She flicked her wrist, and an electric jolt snaked down the wires to shock him. He felt himself being lifted up and back before smashing through the plate glass.

For a moment, it felt like Tony's heart had completely stopped. He looked through the HUD in a panic, struggling for breath. Whitney continued to advance, stepping up and walking along the walls as if this was the most natural thing to do. The wires shot out again, hooking his gauntlets.

"I wouldn't use this level of amperage on a normal human, Tony," she remarked, "but considering how closely you've integrated your armor to your artificial nervous system...you can take it." The electricity slammed into him like fists of fire. Tony cried out. He worked his chin toggle frantically and fired an Uni-Beam burst at her. She nimbly dodged it like a gazelle.

"This system amplifies my reflexives five-fold, Tony--and yes, I am fully integrated again."

As she bounced from wall to wall before descending upon him, Tony gasped, "Let me guess...Moomji just happened to...have those chronal shards...on hand."

He fired his repulsors at her. She tumbled backwards, but fluidly landed in a crouch and executed a leg sweep that smacked him in the left leg. The shock of the impact went bone deep. Whitney twirled to a standing position and continued her assault, landing a series of kicks and strikes that maneuvered Tony into the nearest pillar. "Does it matter, Tony? What matters is the job is done, and I agreed to do one thing for the man who did this."

Tony smiled ruefully behind the mask. "Kill me?"

"No," she replied, placing her hand on his chest and letting an electrical discharge arc across his armor's surface. "Just wear you down until he's ready for you."

Tony's head swam. He cursed himself for not putting more insulation in the Evader Mode--but then, the Evader was not meant to be a combat machine; it was meant for quick getaways. He launched a few exploratory strikes of his own to put a little distance between himself and Whitney. She moved back, and when there was enough space, he began to gasp out, "Engage--"

The pain in his throat was immense. She had driven an elbow into the spot where his helmet seals joined the breastplate. Normally, it would only have resulted in Whitney breaking her arm; enhanced by the amplified power of the suit she wore, it cracked the sealing ring and temporarily stunned his vocal chords.

"None of that Tony," she admonished him, then twirled into a high roundhouse kick that sent him to the floor. Tony scrambled to get to his feet again, only to be hit again by his opponent's flashing feet.

It wasn't fair, he thought to himself surreally. If only he had more time to rest.

He fired his repulsors again. Whitney dodged out of the way nimbly, but was winged by the second shot. He closed in and tried to hide how unsteady he was on his feet with a number of blows, but Whitney managed to deflect most of them. Every once in a while, one would get through and she'd gasp or cry out--but it wasn't enough. The Evader armor was just too light, the armaments not formidable enough to keep her at bay.

"It's only a matter of time, Tony," Whitney stated, the cables once again snaking out and catching on his gauntlets. She pulled and twirled like a discus thrower, and Tony went flying into the next room.

Tony pushed the debris off of him and saw her descending, legs extended in a classic kung fu strike. He calibrated his uni-beam and fired, sending her back and giving him more time to recover.

He took to the air, fighting against unconsciousness, his repulsors flashing. Whitney rolled quickly, her body always a millimeter ahead of the place where the beams made impact. He coughed once, refusing to acknowledge the coppery taste in the back of his throat and said through a haze, "Enable Defau--"

Again the cable, this time snagging itself in the crack caused by Whitney's earlier strike. Electricity surged up the line and seeped through the rent, causing Tony's vocal chords to freeze up. "You are _not_ switch armor modes on me, Stark."

"This...is not...the way, Whitney," Tony gasped. Black dots crawled along the edges of his vision. He fought against succumbing and threw up his arm just in time to deflect a tiger strike from Whitney. The impact still went deep into his bones.

"Just submit, Tony. It will go easier," Whitney replied, following the tiger strike with a sidekick that turned Tony around fully. The roaring in his head increased. "I know you're already tired from fighting the other Chessmen. I promise we'll give you a rest. Satsujin wants to talk to you before--"

Tony threw a series of punches and judo chops that landed expertly--even in his dazed state, the training of Captain America came through. But the power behind these blows was minimal, and they seemed to affect Whitney not at all. She sent a cable outward, wrapping it around his arm and yanking him forward, a kick hitting him full in the chest.

His vision was dimming now. In the back of his head, Tony began to panic, wondering if he was about to die. His blows were going wild, missing Whitney as many times as he connected.

Whitney just shook her head sadly and flicked her wrist. Placing her hand fully over his skull-like helmet, she pumped a load of gas into the suit. The environmental seals came down, but not quickly enough to keep all of the foreign material out.

"Never design anything in front of a spy, Tony," Whitney said as he began to succumb to the combination of his own exhaustion and the sleep gas. "You should know that by now."

Casper Sitwell and Bethany Cabe stood side by side, both of them examining the blueprints before them. It showed Stark's home in all its technical glory, and the two were planning for war.

Of course, there was one problem with their strategies. Namely, the man they were going to have to protect had gone AWOL.

Casper looked up from the blueprints to the silvery form across from the table. Jocasta had been called into the meeting to consult due to her intimate knowledge of the electronic security of the house; for some time before Tony had devised a new body for her, she ran the house as his AI. "And we have no word on Mr. Stark's whereabouts?"

Jocasta shook her head. "No. Ms. Cabe and I have our suspicion."

"I sent James Rhodes to investigate where we think he may be."

"Can we trust this man?"

Bethany nodded, trying hard not to let on that she wished she were going on that mission. "Implicitly."

Casper cursed under his breath. "I now have begun to understand why my uncle was going prematurely gray all those years ago." He shook his head and moved away from the table. "This is aggravating. We're trying to protect someone who slipped away hours ago from an adversary we only have second hand knowledge of..."

"It's not all second-hand knowledge," Bethany said. "Hercules, Jack and Tony have had first hand experience with Nebula, and Tony has met up with the Stark before."

"But that was the Stark before these--Uncreated--got hold of them." Casper thought for a moment. "What we need is an expert, someone with first-hand knowledge of these aliens."

"Well, Carol Danvers spent an extended period of time in Shi'ar space," Jocasta suggested. "She's been on call ever since we became aware of the impending fleet."

"That's well and good, but has she faced any of these races personally?"

"Not that I know of."

Casper looked withdrawn for a second. Bethany continued studying the blueprints, making notations in the margins.

"Wait a moment," Casper Sitwell said.

"Yes?" Bethany asked, looking up from her labors.

"We do have a person with first hand experience with that nagging unknown quantity," Casper said, retrieving and flipping open his cell phone. "And she's a former SHIELD trainee. I could get her down here immediately."

"Someone's...met the Uncreated?" Bethany now turned away from the blueprint, intrigued by what the new arrival was saying.

"Yes, Ms. Cabe," Casper confirmed.

"And you know this how...?"

"A SHIELD Agent always prepares himself thoroughly before going into the field, and that means scrupulous research. My uncle taught me that." The agent turned away from Bethany, his attention suddenly drawn away from her. "Hello? Enable Beta-Red Scramble--who am I speaking to? Good. This is Agent Sitwell. Get on the horn with Personnel pronto. Have them dig through the Inactive Files."

The two women, one flesh and blood and one metallic watched, not sure what was going on.

Casper Sitwell nodded to himself. "Tell whoever you get on this that it's Top Ultraviolet Priority. We need former Trainee Katherine Pryde here in Seattle immediately."

Tony woke to the sound of wine filling a chilled glass.

His head lolled briefly as he adjusted to the realities of consciousness. He was spread eagle, supported by large metal clamps that held his limbs fast. He experimentally flexed to see if the Evader armor could breech his bonds, but could not maneuver within them. The ringing in his ears continued as a low undercurrent; he speculated on whether he had concussed himself in the battle with the Chessmen and Whitney.

Before him, at a dining room table set with a sumptuous spread, was Satsujin and Indries Moomji. Tony felt his heart speed up at the sight of the beautiful Indian woman; the memories that she caused to rise to the surface shamed him. He had once loved her, and she was just a tool for--

"Stane," he gasped.

Satsujin looked up. "He will join us momentarily, Mr. Stark. It is nice to see you finally awake. We are almost finished with the main course. I would offer you a drink, but..."

The half smile Satsujin gave him said it all.

Tony spent a moment struggling to focus. It was so hard to think. "Why--?"

"Why did I do all this?" Satsujin rose from the table and approached the spot where Tony was suspended. His head tilted to one side. "Because you beat my father. I beat you. This makes me worthy to be by his side."

Tony met Satsujin's gaze. "Stane's your father? But you're too old." He glanced over at Indries, who had yet to even acknowledge him. "Who's the mother?"

The gorgeous Indian woman raised her head. She still refused to look directly at Tony. She took her glass of wine and muttered, "I would think that was obvious, Anthony."

"But...the ages are all wrong, then...Satsujin has to be in his early 20's at least."

Satsujin reached up and grabbed Tony's helmet, guiding it so that he was once again looking directly at him. "I do not appreciate being talked about as if I am not in the room. I bested you. You will acknowledge me."

"What is he, Indries? Artificial?"

The Indian woman nodded slightly. "Only insomuch that he was created _in vitro_ and was put through an accelerated maturation process. The gene plasm that made him is mine and Obediah's."

"But...why?"

The last question finally caused her to turn to face him. "Because you beat him, Anthony. You beat him, and I knew he would not want that to stand. So I found Mr. Snare and other loyalists, and I took action."

Tony sighed. The memories of Stane's last moments played behind his eyes like a vicious taunt. "You didn't understand him, Indries."

"I _loved_ him." She stood.

"You only think you did," Tony replied. "Stane committed suicide not because I beat him, but because he wanted to prevent me from getting that decisive win over him. He thought if he killed himself, I could never claim victory."

"That's not true!" Satsujin exclaimed. He stepped in front of Tony with a petulant look on his face. "Admit that's not true."

Indries came up behind the man with the first name of murder and put her hands on his shoulders. "It isn't true. Don't listen to him, my son."

Satsujin turned in toward Indries and rested his head on her bosom. She patted his back comfortingly. It was the first time that Tony got a true sense of how young the man was. "How old is he--four, five?"

"About that," the woman replied. Her eyes seemed to soften as she held the large man in her arms. "He is tired, Anthony. All this planning, plotting--it is overwhelming to him."

"How long have...you been planning this all?"

"Almost for as long as your victory stood, Anthony." Indries slowly released Satsujin from her embrace; her 'son' now looked as if he was in control again. "Obediah had funds scattered throughout the world. When he died, I started gathering them and commissioned the creation of Satsujin. Once he had reached a certain level of maturity, we began to plan."

"Stane--He's still alive?" Tony kept fighting against the ringing in his head; getting the bizarre family to talk was helping.

Hearing Tony's question made Satsujin smiled. "That was me."

"I'm sure you're...quite proud of yourself, sonny."

Again, Satsujin pouted. "You should be more impressed. I worked hard finding the Resurrection Altar in Wakandan, helping to finance Erik Killmonger's attempted coup--and waited very patiently for the priests to ask if they could do anything for us."

"The Resurrection Altar," Indries further explained, "allows humanity to interface with the other side. When we asked the priests to find Obediah, they were eager to comply."

"I had them place him in a special spirit jar until we could discover how to house his essence in a temporary vessel," Satsujin offered. He was beginning to remind Tony of an over-eager child.

"Which...led you to retrieving...the Destroyer," Tony said.

Satsujin smiled. "Exactly. And, you know, it was my idea to try and get you to examine the device for insight into what we wanted to do--but you wouldn't play nice. So I had to trick Webster into powering the armor up. My Chessmen did all the computations and calculations I needed as you and that Jack of Hearts fought it."

"The Chessmen were a wise investment, Anthony," Indries said.

"I was able to take care of them handily...enough."

"Yes," Satsujin admitted. "But we expected as much, since you defeated them before, when they were the Raiders. But they served their purpose well, planting the device Mr. Snare and I developed to transfer father's essence into an empty shell on your grounds, wearing you down enough for my Queen to defeat you..."

Tony fought back the muzziness in his head, even though he felt his vision darkening. "Whitney?what did you do to...Whitney?"

Satsujin smiled gleefully. "Wouldn't you like to know, Mr. Stark?"

"Oooookay," James Rhodes said, taking off his sunglasses. "If I wasn't sure there was something wrong going on in there, those shutters tell another story."

The two men pulled up to the curb outside Omnus Technologies' main building and got out. Scott Lang walked right up to where the front door should have been and inspected the thick, banded steel shutters that shut off all contact with the outside world. "Do all super-villain hideouts have these?"

"Shoot, Lang, how am I to know? I didn't fight _everybody_." Rhodey took a surreptitious look around for surveillance cameras. "And I still don't know why you insisted on coming with."

Scott felt along the bottom of the shudders and started grinning like a cat. "Gotcha!"

"Got what?"

Scott looked up. "You know the big secrets, don't you, Jimmy?"

"Why the Hell you calling me 'Jimmy,' Lang?" Rhodey asked. "Do I look like a Jimmy to you? Do I have a bow tie and a green plaid jacket on?"

"Just answer the question."

"If you mean what I think you mean, then yeah."

Scott nodded. "Okay. You're about to learn another one." He fished in his pocket for what appeared to be two bright silver marbles. He handed one to Rhodey. "Put that in your ear. You see, there's a spot right at the left lower corner where the seal isn't perfect."

"And that means?"

"And that means," Scott Lang said before shrinking out of sight, "You're about to learn why I insisted on coming with."

Now shrunk to the size of Ant-Man, Scott slipped in through the imperfect seal and went about the task of finding a way to let his partner in.

"I know you hurt her somehow, Moomji...at the very least because your mother was jealous of Stane's fling with her," Tony said through gritted teeth. Keeping himself agitated was the only way to fight the darkness encroaching on his vision.

"We needed a Queen, Anthony," Indries replied. "Surely you realize that."

'And mother would not do," Satsujin added, "Since we knew you would not trust her. Lucky for us, we learned of this new Masque when she was an ally of the Avengers. We subcontracted to a mechanical genius friend of yours to capture her and...redistribute her DNA. Some deep-cover hypnosis gave her the back story involving chronal cancer and then we set her loose."

"So she was killing--?"

"She was killing simulacra utilizing LMD material, yes. You did get that right, and you are to be commended, Mr. Stark. We knew you'd be drawn into the mystery eventually. Your ties with Ms. Frost were well-known."

"And when Ms. Frost discovered what we were doing, which she was bound to do, we had a cover story ready to make our 'cure' seem real," Indries added.

"She's still dying, Mr. Stark," Satsujin said casually. "When we retrieved her genetic material, we implanted a virus to give weight to the chronal cancer story. The devices in the armor will slow her death, but the virus will eat away at her. In a few months, she will die a slow, painful death. Pity you will not be there to see her expire."

Tony paused, his face growing flush underneath the helmet. "You should worry more about your deaths," he said, his anger giving him strength.

Scott glided under the electronic eyes on a flying ant. He scanned the area for the controls to the shutter as the insect dipped and wove its way around the beams of light. There was always a slight distortion of perception that accompanied the size change, and Scott was only just now adjusting to the scale involved in his present miniscule height.

Down the corridor and to the left, he discovered a closet that contained the video recorders for the 'public' security monitors. Scott herded his insect mount up through a spot where the cable from the recorders receded into the wall; if Tony was right about Omnus' less that legit activities, he reasoned, there was an auxiliary feed that led to the _real_ security center.

As he and his mount followed the coaxial trail to their destination, he reached out with his helmet to contact the other insects that dwelled within the walls of Omnus. He and Rhodey were going to need them if they encountered opposition on the level of the Knight who stormed Stark's home with the help of Heavy Metal. He began a running conversation with the insects in the shorthand he learned from Hank Pym, gathering up what he needed to know about occupancy and firepower.

The cable led them to a large room ringed by monitors. A large control console with three empty chairs seemed to be where the commands were given. Scott swooped over the board until he found what he hoped was the right switch. Hoping off the ant, he put his shoulder flush against the underside of the toggle and pushed.

The switch flipped over. On one of the monitors, the steel shutters pulled up. Rhodey looked around then stepped through the broken glass doors into Omnus.

Scott paused.

He hadn't seen a video camera mounted anywhere near the front doors. But if his eyes were to be believed, there was one...

Which meant someone knew they were here.

Scott felt a rush of air and leapt across the console, landing against a large red panic button. The chubby hand, made gigantic due to his scale, slammed against the surface.

A strange, bug eyed man with what looked like a chain mail headdress and a crown like the parapet of a castle stared at Scott. He grinned and said, "Now I am complete. Fate has provided me with someone to put down on my own."

"Why should we worry about our own deaths, Mr. Stark?" Satsujin asked, his hands folded behind his back.

"Once Whitney discovers how you betrayed her--"

"Impossible. The only people who know about the deception are the three of us, and my father. And soon you will cooperate with that deception willingly."

"I find that hard to believe," Tony shot back.

"I am sure there was a time, during your affair with Ms. Cabe, that you thought it hard to believe that you would return to the bottle, Anthony," Indries said. "And yet Obediah and I led you back there with ease."

"You seem to forget, Mr. Stark," Satsujin continued, "that we have perfected mind transference. It was difficult to recreate my father's work, which is why we needed to study the Destroyer and your own Telepresence set-up. But we have done it. All my father really wants is a body to complete his winning of this match against you."

"And whose body would be better," Indries said, a smile playing on her face, 'to take back the holdings you took from him, to take over all you've built since his disappearance...than yours?"

Nebula watched as Laserface and his four hand-chosen men--the so-called Stark Elite--knelt and meditated, preparing for the task at hand. She smirked, wondering if these pathetic little cyborgs realized how hypocritical their crusade was. After all, they had a religion; the credo of the Uncreated seemed to be no different from the credos of other religions, being as it revolved around worship. The only difference was that they worshipped only themselves.

She was already making plans for the mineral rights of the blue-green globe that was slowly coming into view on the bridge's monitors. There were plenty of civilizations and businesses 

throughout the universe willing to pay for the diamonds, the metals, the oxygen, the water and all the resources the Earth would give up.

And that wasn't even counting the funds she would recoup from the slave labor force...

The Stark Elite rose. They approached Nebula, Laserface at the fore. They gave her a short bow.

"Are you ready?" Nebula asked.

Laserface lowered his helmet over his head. "The Stark Elite now go forth to destroy their hated god and finalize their act of Uncreation. We leave victims of a monstrosity who sought to enslave us; we return to you, Lady Nebula, as free beings."

Nebula tried not to laugh. She thought about what wonderful weapon makers this rag tag little race was going to make once she revealed that there was no escaping her grasp. "Go forth, noble warriors. Find your destiny."

The five Stark bowed again and left the room. Nebula immediately opened up her commlink and asked for the going rate for photosynthesizing cellulose-based material amongst the darker planets of the Outer Rim.

James Rhodes walked along the corridors of Omnus stealthily, his pistol at the ready. He wondered when Lang was going to pop up so they could bust Tony out of this place.

Thinking back, it made a lot of sense that Scott was Ant Man. That little guy had a habit of popping up at several times when he was really needed. No wonder, since he was one of Tony's contractors.

"Lang, where are you," he hissed into the small headset that Scott had provided.

"He won't hear you," said a familiar voice.

Rhodey turned around. "Man, Whitney--that you? We've been looking all over--"

A taser cable snaked out and delivered an electric shock sufficient to cause him to go unconscious.

"I know," Masque stated as she stepped from the shadows.

"What do you mean?" Tony said, a roiling pain growing deep in his gut.

"I would think that would be obvious, my greatest opponent," said a voice that Tony never expected to hear again.

It had an electric buzz to it that threw Tony off at first, but the pitch, the timbre was unmistakable. The cultured accent with just an undertone of Manhattan street sent chills through Tony's whole body. He craned his head to find the new arrival.

"While I understand that this suit grants me some rather impressive power, it is still an empty shell. It does not allow me to indulge in the few physical pleasures I allowed myself the last time I walked the Earth, Anthony."

He wore a familiar set of gold and red armor that Tony had thought long gone. Similar in design to the classic Iron Man armor he wore for most of his career, there were slight design differences--energy cells on the back of the gloves, a more boxy helmet, some cabling. It was the Iron Man armor designed by the Tony Stark of Masque's alternative timeline, the Tony who betrayed him to the Mandarin and almost murdered one of his closest friends. It was the armor worn by that timeline's James Rhodes to terrorize him and those closest to him.

And when the armor disengaged its helmet, the blue-tinted, semi-transparent face of Obediah Stane peered out.

"So shortly, my son and I will work the mind-transference equipment devised by Dr. Atalanta and perfected by myself. I will become you, my opponent"

And you, after we disconnect the field that is keeping my spirit coherent, will be dead."


	29. Check Mate

Iron Man

Chapter 29: Check Mate

The Stark Elite passed our moon just as dawn was breaking in Seattle.

There were five of them, composed of the finest warriors the race had to offer. While the rest of the Stark had to make do with armor that was dented and soiled, a patchwork conglomeration of wires and plates that sometimes left gaps where their accursed flesh was left exposed for the enemy, the Elite had only the best. Their armor was shiny and relatively new; their flesh was mostly protected from the outside world. When the Stark had laid waste to another civilization unwilling to follow them on their crusade of Uncreation, it was the Stark Elite who were gifted with the best components and weaponry. It was only fair, as the Stark Elite were meant to be the exemplars of their philosophy.

They sped through the void, a skin-tight atmosphere-retention force field from a planet called Vixar protecting them. Their helmets, all identical and designed to emulate their mentors on their quest, all faced forward. Their heads were filled with the need to destroy their God, the one true Anthony Stark.

In the back, the Stark leader, Laserface, flew. He had insisted on coming on this mission, determined to witness the exact second in history when the Stark became emancipated from the tyranny of their god.

As the first morning rays of the sun slowly raked across the Seattle streets, the Stark Elite reflected on how this would be a glorious day for their race.

Scott Lang barely dodged the fist of the dwarven Mr. Snare. He was having bad Irwin Allen flashbacks as he communicated to the ants in the surrounding area, begging them for a distraction.

"I have never had the chance for direct confrontation before," Snare told Scott he continued to pound on the console where Scott scrambled for cover. "I am a delicate man, after all, incapable of engaging brutes like Stark in hand-to-hand combat. You, however, my insectile friend—"

"Blow it out your ear!" Scott shot back as his two winged mounts (named, like all of the ants he had used for this purpose, Steed and Emma) buzzed about Mr. Snare's face. The distraction factor was minimal, but it allowed Scott to dive off the console and land on the seat of the office chair before it. A number of ants had already climbed up on the seat to await their master, while others proceeded to slip in under the diminutive villain's raiment's.

Scott mounted one of the ants. "Comon' Tara! Get me in position!"

Mr. Snare began to scratch at his shins. "What is this, little man? You cannot escape. I will present your broken corpse to my master."

"Oh, shut up," Scott called out and tossed one of the canisters at his waist. The tiny metal cylinder broke upon impacting against Mr. Snare's tunic, releasing a small amount of whitish mist.

"What in the—" Mr., Snare asked…

And suddenly found himself surrounded by a number of monstrous creatures that looked like ants.

Mr. Snare looked around. "No," he muttered as he realized his predicament. He had been exposed to Pym Particles and had now shrunk, becoming no larger than the insects around him. He felt someone tap him on the shoulder. The dwarf closed his eyes and shook his head vigorously, refusing to acknowledge the inevitable.

"Fine. Be like that, then," Scott snapped and conked Mr. Snare on the head. The dwarf fell to the floor.

"Okay, some of you guys take this chess piece someplace safe until this is over and we can embiggen him. The rest of you come with me," he told the gathered ants. "We've got an industrialist and a pilot to rescue."

"Did I do good, father? Did I?"

The holographic head of Obediah turned to acknowledge his 'son,' a genetically engineered creature that was supposed to represent the best traits of himself and his former 'Queen,' Indries Moomji. One look at the way the young man bounced by his side like an eager puppy, hoping for any sign of approval, saddened him. It seemed that his personality was deteriorating—something he speculated was the by-product of the process used to age him prematurely.

"You played your part. That is all I needed," Obediah said neutrally.

"Don't I deserve praise, father? Don't I deserve a present?" Satsujin said, nearly pouting.

"You get to survive once your usefulness to me is over," Stane replied darkly. "Is everything ready?"

"Yes, father." Satsujin seemed to slip back into the skin of someone resembling the smart, canny businessman Indries claimed he had been. "The mind transference device is fully powered. All we need is to transport Mr. Stark to the operating theater and begin the process and you will have a real body again."

Obediah Stane nodded. "Good boy. Let us fetch Stark, and then we shall begin."

A smile formed on the former industrialist's holographic face. "I must say, I am looking forward to being back in flesh again."

Indries Moomji examined herself in the full-length mirror as she held the black evening gown in front of her lithe, near-perfect body.

She did not look too bad for all the years she had been engineering the return of her Lord and Master. And now she had to look perfect for when the mind transference brought him back to flesh and blood existence.

There were a few lines in her face, and a settling of the flesh on her body, but the work of the Sisterhood of Ishtar still shone through. She was designed to be irresistible to men, and irresistible she still was. If it wasn't for Tony's prior knowledge of what she was, she was positive he, too, would have fallen at her feet. A smile played on her face as she thought back on the time when she 'dated' Tony (in reality part of Stane's plan to destroy him); he was a charming little drone.

Yes, there was a time when she rebelled against Stane, when she yearned to be free. But after Iron Man gave her her freedom, Indries realized what she was...and what she needed to be.

In the mirror, she could see Masque melting out of the shadows, the new armor her son had devised for her giving her excellent cloaking capabilities.

"What?" she snapped, still feeling odd having this woman around. After all, when Stane was alive, this was the woman who took him from her.

"They're ready for the transference," Masque said.

"Good. It will feel good to hold Obediah in my arms again."

Something glinted in the mirror.

"They said they can't wait very long."

"Well, they shall have to wait a little while longer."

Indries turned to see Masque bouncing a copper penny on the palm of her hand. Indries lowered the dress, a quizzical look coming over her face.

"What are you doing? Come help me get into this."

"Catch," Masque said, and threw the coins.

Indries caught the coin. She had a split second to notice the thin wire connected to the copper penny before a lethal charge of electricity went through her body.

Masque watched the corpse of Indries Moomji smoke, burn and blacken with a slight, sardonic smile. As Indries fell to the floor, her limbs still twitching, her face no longer irresistible, Masque shimmered and changed into a figure wearing a white driving coat, slouch hat and skull mask.

"Justice is served," the only surviving human in the room proclaimed.

The Stark Elite locked onto a transmission made from what they called The Temple of Stark just as the people of Seattle were rushing to work. They adjusted their flight paths and proceeded to home in on the signal that would deliver them to their God...

And deliver their God to perdition.

"So you want to know about the Uncreated?" the woman with the curly brown hair asked Casper Sitwell and Bethany Cabe. Jack Hart studied her carefully, trying to determine her real age; she had one of those perpetually youthful faces that would have made her look all of thirteen if it wasn't for the lines around her eyes and mouth. Of course, if Jack had assumed she was a teenager, the presence of her two friends would have set him straight.

"My contact with the Stark, Ms. Pryde" Jack told the young woman, "made it clear that they had fallen under the Uncreated's influence. Their philosophy, their tactics...all were reflected in how the Stark behaved themselves."

"And with the Stark just outside our door...," Bethany added, letting the implication stay in the air.

"Gothcha," the woman said. She shrugged. "There's not much I can tell you other than what you already know. But I could point you to someone who could get his hands on some pretty comprehensive files..._if_ they still exist."

One of the woman's companions, a man with fangs and skin so black it gave him the appearance of being cloaked in shadows, leapt off his perch on top of the light fixtures to land next to her friend. "Kitty, are you sure you want to contact him?"

"I'm surprised to hear you so upset, Kurt. Of all of us, you seemed to get along with him the best," Kitty said.

"Would one of you," Casper Sitwell said, pulling off his horn-rimmed glasses and massaging the bridge of his nose, "mind telling us who you're talking about?"

"I was about to say the same thing," the tall blonde man who hovered over Kitty added.

"An ex-boyfriend of mine," Kitty Pryde replied. "Name of Pete Wisdom."

Tony had begun to lose track of the time he had spent suspended from the specially-designed restraints. He felt terrible; the salty copper taste of his own blood was heavy in his mouth, and the constant dizziness that settled in the back of his skull had to be indications of a concussion. He spent most of his time fighting back the normal biological urge to sleep; if he closed his eyes, even if he told himself it was just for a second...well, the results would not be pretty.

Sometimes, in those rare times when he was fully conscious, he could hear his captors in other rooms discussing the impending process by which Stane's mind would be implanted in his body. Much of his time after hearing of the progress was spent thinking of ways to circumvent the process, to cheat Stane of the triumph he was already boasting of achieving.

This inevitable led him to think of Karyn and what Stane would do with her once he was ensconced in Tony's body...which would inevitably lead Tony to wonder what Stane would do to Bethany...

The shurring of the door opening forced him away from the shoals of unconsciousness. He shook his head, an action that looked more like his head was lolling weakly from side to side. Tony struggled to focus on the new arrival, and regretted doing so when he saw who it was.

"Whitney."

"I just wanted to see you one last time...the way you were meant to be, Tony."

"Well, you've had your look. Thanks for coming."

Whitney hesitated. She was not wearing the special armor Stane had created for her as his Queen, and her holster was nowhere to be seen. "I did grow to care for you, Tony."

Tony coughed. Once more, the taste of blood flowed onto his tongue. There was a buzzing in his right ear. "You have an odd way of showing it."

"You shouldn't have abandoned me like that. I was counting on you—"

"I didn't abandon you! Curing you was always on my mind. I can't help it that an alien invasion was taking top priority."

Whitney smacked him hard. Tony coughed and spat another glob of pinkish saliva. "Do not lie to me, Anthony Stark. You had time during the preparations to wine and dine that little tart Karyn Celeste, _and_ to make secret plans with Bethany Cabe—"

"Bethany Cabe is a security specialist! She's part of my preparations for the Stark."

"And I wasn't good enough to put on the frontlines, Anthony?" Whitney stiffened with rage. "Don't think I didn't notice how you made me wait in the wings when you faced the Destroyer, or how you entrusted your welfare to Cabe when you went into the hospital...my Tony may have been a callow and cruel youth, but he at least valued me, as does Stane."

"And besides, Stane cured you."

Whitney nodded. The buzz continued in Tony's ear, droning quietly. "Yes."

Tony paused. Black dots seemed to crawl across the edges of his vision. "Whitney...I want you to do something for me."

"I shudder to think what it is," the woman in the golden mask replied sarcastically.

"I want you to go to the Avengers West Coast compound and have Dr. Pym test you. Because the Moomjis and Stane didn't cure you at all. They told me as much. They've played you for a fool, knowing you were so desperate to live that you'd betray anything and anyone."

Whitney was silent for a long time. Finally, she said, "I look forward to seeing your life sucked away," and walked out.

Tony fought against his dimming vision, not wanting to lose consciousness. The buzz in his ear grew louder.

And then a familiar voice said, "Man, I thought she'd never leave."

Tony suddenly found himself fully awake, something he attributed to shock. "Ant-Man."

"One and the same, fearless leader. Now let's get you out of here."

The Stark Elite violated the Temple of Stark shortly after 10a.m. Pacific Time.

Bambi Arborgast walked up to Karyn Celeste and said, "You know, honey, you can go to your office. I'll let you know when they find Mr. Stark."

The petite blonde girl looked up at the matronly woman who had served as Tony's Head of Clerical Operations throughout several incarnations. Mrs. Arborgast kept a straight face, but the truth was the differences in the woman's appearance were startling. She had bags under her eyes and a sallow complexion that made her look sickly. Her white-blonde hair was limp and greasy and showing darkness at the roots. "That's fine, Mrs. A. I can always use the teleconference room when I really need to make my presence known...and, you know, there's always the cell, and..."

Mrs. Arborgast sat down next to Karyn and put a matronly arm around her. The fact was that Bambi actually felt a bond with the girl ever since they waited for news on Tony's operation together. Karyn Celeste, to her, was a smart woman and certainly on an intellectual and emotional level with Mr. Stark—which made her recent, slow deterioration all the more of a concern.

"Listen to me," Bambi Arborgast said in a soft, friendly voice. "I don't know what's going on that Mr. Stark disappeared, but when we find him he's going to need you. He's going to need you strong and smart, the way you were when you two first met. Go home, take a shower, take care of yourself. Let me worry for the both of us."

Karyn seemed to collapse against the other woman. She sniffed, and Mrs. Arbogast feared she was about to cry. "I can't afford not to be he—"

The shattering of the skylight and the resulting winds interrupted what Karyn was about to say. Mrs. Arborgast's military training took over as she guided Karyn to the ground and lay 

over her, protecting her from the debris. She looked up, squinting her eyes, and saw the reason for the explosion of glass.

There were four of them, hideous inhuman creatures of metal and steel and gangrenous flesh. Wires jutted out of small patches of exposed skin was at odd angles and burrowed into their chest and neck, and plates of some eldritch metal seemed embedded in their very body. What she could see of their skin bore the unhealthy dark red look of infection. Something shimmered around their form, like light as seen through tears.

And each of the five creatures had a helmet on their head...a green, gleaming assembly that bore a resemblance to a lizard from one angle, a horse from another. Three spikes radiated from the top of their skull, swept back into a menacing, streamlined silhouette. Their eyeslits glowed an ominous orange as they looked down on her.

"Who are you?" Bambi Arbogast, former Marine, asked.

The intruder in the center, the one whose armor was the cleanest, whose skin was the least putrid, answered.

"We are the Stark Elite. Do you have a god?"

Whitney fumed.

How dare Tony put doubt in her mind? How dare he try to justify the way he put her situation lower and lower on his priority list? Why she had a half a mind to...

She tried to focus beyond the questions raging in her head. There was no time to let the evil little lies Tony Stark threw at her fester in her head. She had to move on now, find a new hiding place where she could evaluate her next move. Maybe it was time to find a way back to her home reality, or maybe she should stay here and take advantage of a weakened Maggia to...

Whitney Frost turned the corner and stopped dead in her tracks...

Mainly because, coming out of the suite of rooms reserved for Indreis Moomji, was Whitney Frost...

A chill ran up Whitney's spine, but her actions were automatic. She pulled the gun from her holster and closed distance, putting the gun barrel flush against the other Whitney's head.

"Who are you, and why shouldn't I blow your head off?"

The other Whitney seemed to smile.

She then said, in the tone one would speak to a particularly dim dog, "Justice was served."

And the other Whitney attacked.

Bambi Arborgast didn't answer the Stark Elite's question. She was too disciplined, both from her time as a military woman and her time serving with Anthony Stark, a time where she learned literally anything could happen. She dove for her desk. One hand opened up a drawer, where a one-shot taser lay. The other hand slapped the panic button.

The claxons that rang throughout the house were not as loud as the scream of rage from Karyn Celeste.

The young woman had risen up from the carpet and grabbed hold of a chair. She screamed, "Why can't you leave us alone?" and swung it across the leader of the Stark's chest. Bambi took the initiative and fired her taser at the nearest alien and fired.

They had no effect, except to make the Stark tilt their heads to one side and contemplate the actions. The Stark Bambi had attacked grabbed hold of the twin wires and pulled them out of his scabrous skin.

"You have not answered our question," the lead Stark said. "Do you have a god?"

"What does it matter?" Karyn shrilled. "Get out of my boyfriend's house."

To the lead Stark's left, one of his fellows shuddered and fell unconscious. Standing there where he fell, rising up out of the floor, was a thin, extremely young-looking young girl with long, curly brown hair. In spite of her overtly cute appearance, her expression displayed the calmness and determination of a warrior. "I have to second that sentiment," she said, "Well, except for the 'my boyfriend' part."

The lead Stark inclined his head. "One of the protectors of the Temple of Stark has electro-disruptive abilities, my brethren. Activate your biomagnetic defensive fields."

"The what...?" the woman asked just as a noxious explosion of smoke appeared just above the woman, apparently from out of nowhere. Emerging from the evaporating black vapors was what looked like a demon from out of a Medieval Morality Play, carrying a burly blonde man and a silver woman with him.

The four standing Stark put their hands to their chest, and the shimmering of their form changed color to a deep yellow. The lead Stark reached out and grabbed Karyn, ignoring the way the blonde man landed on top of one of his fellows and began pummeling him, a lusty yell coming from his lips.

The lead Stark grabbed Karyn by the throat and lifted her up off her feet. "I am Laserface, Regent Eternal of my people. I ask you for the final time, slattern...Do. You. Have. A God?"

At 10:03 a.m., Pacific Time, the Stark claimed their first victim in their Invasion of Earth.

"You do not have to do this personally, father," Satsujin Moomji said softly.

"I beg to differ, my son," the disembodied spirit of Obediah Stane, presently housed in the armor worn by the James Rhodes of another reality, replied. "It is important, when playing the game, to let your opponent know when you are making your final move. What we are about to do is the final move in my game with Anthony. Thus, I must transport him personally to the mind-transference machine."

The animated armor and the man with the first name of Murder opened the door that led to where Tony Stark was being held prisoner—

And saw that the wall-mounted shackles were empty.

"What the..." father and son muttered in near perfect synch before Tony Stark slammed into Stane from behind, knocking his opponent to the ground.

Stane rolled over onto his back just in time to see Tony raise his fists. His gauntlets glowed with a bluish-white shimmer.

"You're about to learn, Satsujin," Stark said, his eyes still locked on Stane. "Why you should let the dead stay dead."

Stane rolled out of the way seconds before Tony's fists hit the floor with enough force to buckle the tiles. He struggled up on one knee and fired his repulsors at Stark. The angered industrialist simply clenched his right fight and grunted as the energies skittered across his chest-plate and were absorbed by the Living Iron's power collection cells. Tony launched himself across the room, slamming into Stane and pinning him against the wall.

"This," Stark snarled as he drew his fist back, "ends here."

_Whoever this imposter is_, Whitney thought, _she's damn good._

She seemed to know all the martial arts Whitney knew, and had a sense of Whitney's strategies in combat. Every strike was blocked and used as a set-up for another strike; every feint only served to move her in position for another strike. They battled along the corridors of Omnus Technologies, breaking down free-standing cubicle walls, damaging office furniture and otherwise devastating the environment around them.

After several minutes, Whitney realized there was only one difference between the imposter and herself. The imposter did not seem to tire.

As she felt fatigue setting in, Whitney found herself wishing she hadn't removed the Queen armor devised for her by Satsujin Moomji.

The battle was vicious and arduous, but in the end Whitney could not outlast the imposter. She ended up making the fatal move when she dodged out of the way of a bicycle kick, only to have the imposter change directions and land a Heart Strike squarely on Whitney's chest.

She fell hard, her heart and lungs briefly paralyzed. Whitney felt panic rise up in her. Her eyes darted about, looking for anything she could use to protect herself once she caught her breath—

If she caught her breath.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, the imposter produced two copper pennies in one hand, and a pistol in the other. She aimed her gun at a spot just above the bridge of Whitney's nose.

The imposter stood over her, the pennies held high in her hand. Whitney wondered what she was going to do with the coins.

Inexplicably, the woman put them away. She lowered her gun and bent down to whisper in Whitney's ears. "Your lucky day. You're not on the list."

And with that, the imposter took off.

Without a hint of emotion, Laserface tossed the corpse of Karyn Celeste aside. The body tumbled end over end and landed against Mrs. Arborgast's desk, her head at an odd angle.

"You bastards!" roared Jocasta, who fired twin beams of ruby force at the Regent of the Stark. The alien was forced back, but held his ground.

"You seem very intent on learning of our piety," Kurt Wagner said as he teleported in behind one of the Elite. He grabbed the alien. "I have a God, and I have faith in knowing he will help us defeat the likes of you."

The young mutant teleported out, Stark in tow, the whiff of brimstone his only calling card. When he teleported back in, it was in the path of a haymaker thrown by John Walker.

Kitty Pryde lunged for the murderous Laserface and phased through him, anticipating that she would disrupt his circuits. In the back of her mind, she remembered the last time something has asked her about her God—a loping reptilian monstrosity, its flesh pierced and bleeding due to the shards of glass embedded therein, the stench of decay heavy on its hide.

Beyond the first battlefield in the war against the Stark, the elevator leading from the 'Skunkworks' opened up, allowing Bethany Cabe, Casper Sitwell and a number of SHIELD agents to pour out. They arrived just in time to see Laserface bat the stunned Kitty Pryde across the room. Bethany rushed to catch her.

"They...they can block the disruption," Kitty muttered, still in shock.

Upon seeing Kitty tossed aside, John Walker, the USAgent, launched into action. Dodging the gunfire of the arriving security force with the precision of a machine, John tackled Laserface and brought him down to the ground. "Like takin' on lil' girls, huh?" John snarled, bringing his fist down hard onto the Stark's exposed neck.

He howled like a banshee and clutched his fist. Nightcrawler appeared behind him. "What's wrong, mein fruend?"

Before John could answer, a panel opened up on Laserface's chest. A yellowish-white beam hit John full in the face, throwing him off of the alien. Behind them, Jocasta traded blows with another of the Stark Elite while SHIELD agents took cover from the blasts of force emanating from the palms of a third. Two of the agents lay on the ground twitching.

Like a wraith, Nightcrawler wove his way through the Elite. He wrapped his tail around the neck of one and pulled himself upwards, effectively suspending the Stark in mid-air.

"You seek to hurt me like this?" the Stark warrior asked as he dangled, suspended by Kurt's tail.

"I do not seek to hurt anyone," Kurt replied, "But I will if it prevents others from being hurt."

"We are the Stark Elite," the warriors hissed. "We are the best of our kind. Look below and see how we deal with Believers. Feel our wrath."

The alien grasped Kurt's tail with his gauntlets. Within seconds, his indigo flesh began to burn. With a yelp of pain, Kurt released the Stark.

Below, the four ambulatory members of the Stark Elite held their ground. With the sound of ripping metal, Jocasta's arm was torn from its socket. Laserface advanced upon John, emitting waves of energy that caused the Agent to writhe on the ground. The two other Stark continued firing upon the SHIELD contingent, cutting them down like wheat in the thresher.

And then Kurt Wagner saw the fifth warrior, the one Kitty had taken out with her disruption field, begin to stand...

Tony slammed his fist into Stane's neck assembly. The coupling cracked lengthwise.

"Tell me if this feels different," he told his former rival.

Stane brought his two metal hands down on either side of Tony's head and followed through with a knee to his groin. Tony stumbled a step, but kept his ground, his blows landing firmly on Stane's chest and causing hairline cracks to appear along the carapace. Stane pushed Stark away and brought one foot up against his rival's chest. There was a roar of exhaust, and Tony found himself blasted across the room by Stane's boot jets.

Tony was on all fours, coughing. Pinkish spittle dribbled out of his mouth. Stane blasted him with his repulsors, driving Tony across the room.

"It felt different," Stane admitted, "only because I _felt_ those blows."

"Good," Tony replied, grinning with blood staining his mouth. "Then those magnetic intensifiers were worth the extra expense. Increases the force of my blows tenfold."

"Impressive. I'll be sure to mention them to my designers when I retrofit my armor from your remains."

Satsujin Moomji, who had cowered in a corner once Stark had attacked his father, took a hesitant step forward. "Father..."

Obediah Stane turned his head. "WHAT?"

"You're...you're leaking."

Satsujin pointed toward the cracks in the armor. Bluish wisps of energy were escaping and rising towards the ceiling. Instinctively, Stane covered the openings. "Damnation!"

"Good a place as any for you," Stark said fiercely as he rolled onto his back. The room reverberated with a _pockpockpock_ as his armor's rail gun fired high density metal shot at Stane. The impact lifted the once-dead industrialist off his feet and across the room. Tony executed a kippup and fired his repulsors, his targeting computer homing in on the cracks in the armor that contained Stane's essence.

"FATHER!" Satsujin shouted. He ran to his father, throwing himself between Tony and Stane. Stane seemed to smile.

"It seems my son wishes me alive, Anthony," Stane said wryly.

"You should have stayed dead, Stane," Tony shot back. "And if I have to, I'm prepared to send you back to your eternal rest."

"No!" Satsujin screamed. He scrambled to give his father as much cover as possible. "You will leave now."

"Why? I'm not going to let your ghoulish parent continue plotting my downfall."

"But, but...you will," Satsujin insisted. "Because if you don't, your friends will all die."

Bambi Arborgast had served as a Marine. She had seem carnage and death and violence at a young age. When she came to work for Tony Stark what seemed like an eternity ago, she took the many invasions and super-villain attacks in stride. She liked to feel that this was part of the reason why Mr. Stark kept asking her back, because she had proven herself as someone who kept her eye on the job.

Right now, as she stayed under cover and witnessed how these aliens were hurting and killing those Mr. Stark valued as friends and allies, Bambi Arborgast knew what her job was.

To curtail any further casualties.

In that vein, she stood up and shouted, "You want your God?"

The Stark Elite stopped and swiveled their heads as one to the matronly woman by the window. The remaining SHIELD agents raised their weapons, prepared to open fire, but Casper Sitwell motioned them to hold.

"What do you know of Our God?"

"I'm his secretary, I should know where he is!" Bambi shot back, trying her best not to get hysterical. "And if you want him, you have...you have to promise to leave here."

The yellowish glow in Laserface's helmet flared. "You will lead us to him?"

Bambi nodded. "Yes."

To her left, Jocasta clutched the spot where her arm once was. She whispered, "Judas."

"Tell us, and we will leave the Temple."

Bambi Arborgast knew everything that went on in Tony Stark's home. She sometimes wondered what her perennial boss would do if he knew how much she knew—not that she ever told her boss's secrets, for that would be unprofessional.

So she gritted her teeth and gave the Stark Elite the address of Omnus Technologies.

Without another word the Stark Elite flew out of the hole from which they arrived. Instantly, Bambi looked toward Casper Sitwell and Bethany Cabe. "Somebody better call the West Coast Avengers _now_ and get them to intercept those yahoos. We need triage here."

It was Bethany Cabe who did the job as the remaining SHIELD agents began checking on the wounded. She pulled out her old Avengers ID card and activated it.

"The Stark," the redhead told her former bosses as if in a dream. "They're here."

Tony kept his repulsors trained on the downed Stane and Satsujin. "I should have known it wasn't going to be as...easy as this."

The blue energy leaking out of Stane's suit was escaping with an increased speed, so much he looked like he was in great pain. "I must...admit that I never felt...this homoculous...was my son until now."

"If you don't leave my father alone, your friends will die," Satsujin repeated, this time more emphatically.

"How?"

The man with the first name of murder puffed out his chest. "I made a deal with a...certain other party to gain any information on you she might glean. This other party, in turn, uncovered information about the Stark Incursion you've been preparing to deal with for some time now."

"What do you know about the Stark?"

"We know..." Stane told his old enemy, "that they arrived today. That's why you've...been waiting for...so long...for us to operate...on you. I wanted you...to know...what was happening...at your mansion...when I took up residency...in your head."

Tony paused, a thousand emotions coursing through his body. "If the Stark has harm _anyone_..."

"You best leave my father and I and find out," Satsujin jeered.

"And let you both go," Tony said. "I guess that's how you figure this will play, yes?"

The bluish head of Obediah Stane seemed to smirk. He seemed to be fading slightly as more of his essence leaked from the cracked suit. "One would seem to think that is how it would play, yes. Check."

"That's how it won't play," Tony responded, tapping his armor. An insect flew out of one of the nodules and landed near the two men. There was a puff of gas, and two men seemed to appear from out of nowhere: Ant-Man and James Rhodes. Rhodes placed the muzzle of his automatic on the spot above Satsujin's forehead.

"Check and Mate, you creepy undead muthaf#as," Rhodey spat out.

"Rhodey—"

"We heard," Tony's friend replied. "Get back there. We'll keep the Beagle Boys on ice."

"Ton—Iron Man," Ant-Man said, "Pepper—"

"I'll make sure she's alright. As soon as these two are—"

The ceiling came down in an explosion of force, knocking everyone down.

Slowly, the Stark Elite lowered themselves into the room. Their attention was firmly on Tony.

"Fellow beings, note this day," Laserface said as he raised one gloved arm to Iron Man. "For in a brief span of time, we shall become Uncreated."


	30. The Price Of Godhood

Iron Man

Chapter 30: The Price Of Godhood

**Day One: 22:27**

I try to relax inside the armor as I go flying backwards just waiting for that moment of impact and hoping that my own bootjets can stop me before it happens. As the flashes of light go off in my head again I know that the hope was in vain this time.

Through the hole I just made in the wall I can see one of the Stark rocketing towards me. I've been on the run from the group of them for the last three hours. Three hours, seventeen minutes and half a dozen seconds if my onboard clock is correct. Which of course it is. The golden color of my chest plate has black scars that crisscross it thanks to the numerous times I've been blasted or slammed into something. I'm pretty sure that about the only thing that prevented some of the attacks from turning me into caviar is the new energy collection system built into the Living Iron armor. The fact that I've only taken one blast at a time has certainly helped also.

What have I given out in return? Not a whole heck of a lot if I'm honest about it. I've had the armor trying to evaluate their attack strategy and I think I have a fair idea of what their doing. The problem is, how to I combat it? The most that come after me at any point are two of them, while the other three form a triangular pattern high in the air above. Every time I try to make a run for it and make it past the first two attackers, I end up getting blasted by one of the sentinels above. It almost feels like their playing with me, but given their agenda I don't think that's the case. I can't help but feel that they're giving me the respect of not taking me lightly. After all, your God is supposed to be more powerful than you, right?

I do have one idea but it involves buying myself enough time to change modes on the armor. Five seconds might not seem like a long time but when you have one of these monstrosities hunting you it feels like a lifetime. Along with putting some distance between myself and them I need to get this battle outside Seattle. The city's taking a major beating of its own from the invasion and I've contributed my own fair share to that.

Getting to my feet once more takes an effort. The beating I took at the hands of Masque and Stane's Chessmen is as much to blame for this as anything. That's not to say that I could wipe the floor with these guys if I was at full strength. Far from it as this is beginning to feel like the battles I had with my old armors and the Adaptoid created armors recently. I'm about as far behind these Stark technologically as the old armors are behind the Living Iron armor. Maybe even more.

Triggering the targeting computer I find that I have at most three seconds before the latest two attackers are on top of me again. As I glance around my surroundings the beginnings of an idea take shape and I take to the air heading for the center of the building I find myself in. Fortunately the building is one of the old office towers that have been abandoned on Seattle's north side for the newer business area downtown. A deep sonar sweep reveals that I might just have a chance and then I have no more time for planning as one of my playmates crashes through a wall to hover some fifteen feet away. Just as his partner enters through the hole I made earlier I let the first one have it with rail gun. The _pock pock pock_ sounds accompany 

the depleted iron as it's ejected, and a louder set of clangs follow it up as it smacks into the Stark's armor.

In other circumstances I would have allowed the targeting computer to pick out what looked like the vulnerable spots on the target but what I have in mind doesn't give me enough time for that. Instead I point both arms upwards and send pulse bolts into the ceiling high above. This time I make sure that the targeting computer picks out the support struts and sure enough the walls come tumbling down. Not before the other Stark sends a blast of ionized plasma my way. It's what I had hoped would happen, although the ionized plasma is a new trick, and I'm ready for it. Throwing my left arm down I activate the force shield built into that gauntlet and tilt it and a forty five degree angle. The power behind the blast is almost enough to overload the shield but I force more energy into it and it holds long enough to send the blast crashing into the ground at my feet. That's when I turn off my bootjets and let gravity do its thing.

**Day Two: 02:38**

I've spent time in many of the world';s oceans over the years but today I don';t have the time to enjoy my surroundings. It took me almost an hour to use the sewer system underneath the building I collapsed to make it to an exit. Especially as I almost didn';t make it out from all the falling debris. I';m hoping that the two Stark that were in there at least picked up a few bumps and bruises but I don';t think it would have been enough to stop them. After all it wouldn';t have been enough to stop the latest two suits of armor I';ve used.

The Evader mode of my armor includes a version of the old chameleon circuitry and I have that set to mimic the water around me. It';s better than mimicking the slime and sludge that I was covered in after leaving the sewers. I really don';t understand how Spider-man or Castle don';t smell with the amount of time they spend in them.

I can';t ignore the fact that there is something wrong with the Living Iron armor anymore. Just switching from the Default to the Evader modes earlier nearly caused me to pass out. I feel much better in this mode but then again this one has the lowest power drain and the largest collection system of the three modes. I';m going to have to be careful when, and how many times, I switch between modes. It';s also going to make using the Heavy mode risky which really limits my options as that';s the only mode that has a chance against the Stark.

I keep going back to the idea of calling for help but always end up discarding it. As my friends would no doubt tell you, I like to solve my problems on my own. Add in the fact that I would also need to break radio silence to contact anyone which would bring the hunters down on me also plays into my decision. So what am I doing playing in the ocean? Trying to come up with a strategy for dealing with the situation and for once in my life I';m coming up empty. So I take the time, set the armor on autopilot, and go through the data that the armor collected during my earlier battles.

The array of weaponry built into the Stark armor is pretty staggering. It's nice to see that the repulsors are still a part of the design. No sign of a rail gun as yet, but I've seen something similar to my uni-beam, along with plasma, electricity and heat blasts. Strength levels seem to be about at the level I have in the Default and Heavy modes with the magnetic intensifiers active. It's actually their defensive capabilities that worry me most. The armor itself seems to 

be made some material that's stronger than the omnium steel I use for mine, and they're employing a fluxuating force field. I've got to find a way to break that down if I'm to have any chance of surviving this.

Which leads me to another thought – where are they getting the power for all the hardware they're toting? As I begin to check the data again the proximity alarm in the armor goes off and I put aside my thoughts and focus on the new treat. What I discover is something that takes my breath away and sends red hot anger coursing through my veins. Not fifty feet in front of me a squad of five Stark is attacking an Atlantean outpost. I've seen the architecture in Namor's cities before but the grace and elegance of it always stuns me, but this time I focus on the anger that its malicious destruction causes me.

Exactly why they've chosen this place to attack I don't know but I'm about to make them regret their decision. The only advantage that the Evader mode gives me is surprise. It's not strong enough to go toe-to-toe with these guys so I engage my passive scanning array as I drive myself closer to the nearest alien. The scans confirm my initial suspicions – these Stark are nowhere near as heavily outfitted as the other five I encountered. Obviously the leaders keep the best stuff for themselves. A good way of avoiding a revolt I guess, but it's going to cost these five dearly.

As I engage the targeting computer I see a trial of bubbles moving rapidly towards the Stark closest to the Atlanteans. As first one, then another of the Stark is sent spiraling to the ocean floor clearly fighting for air a cry of "Imperius Rex," tells me who has arrived. Well, Namor's not going to have all the fun in this game so I come up quickly behind another Stark and grab the metallic tubes leading from its chest to helmet and rip them apart. Immediately the creatures face starts to turn a nastier shade of blue than it already was and heads for the surface. Too bad for him that I'm not done yet. I send one repulsor blast into the Starks midsection while sending another at the next closest.

My first target begins to sink to the floor as the second one is hit squarely in the back of the neck which rips clear part of his helmet and obviously knocks out any control of his armor he might have had. As I turn back to the final standing member of the Stark I see that she is coming to meet me. There's a sort of religious fanaticism that's making her eyes shine behind her helmet that sends a cold shiver running through me.

Her shout of, "We will be Un…", is cut short of the prongs of a trident appear through her chest and dark, viscous, green blood spurts out of her mouth. Even as she dies she keeps trying to reach me.

Tearing my eyes from the dead form in front of me I look up to see Namor, Prince of Atlantis, floating in front of me. With a complacent gesture he pulls the trident free and ignores the body as it floats to the ocean floor. Then he turns his glare on me.

"What harm have you surface dwellers brought on my people this time Stark?"

The arrogance and anger that seem to be Namor's to command as much as the people of Atlantis seems to have enough force to knock me backwards. I've dealt with him before though, and other like him, so I let it flow around me then reply. "This is none of our doing Namor. These are aliens who are intent on destroying anything they perceive as religious. And they're the strike force for Nebula. You do remember her don't you?"

I can't resist the final barb and I get the result I expected from it.

"I know who she is. I also received the call to assemble from the Avengers but my people are my first priority. We have dealt with many of these invaders and will continue to do so with any others that attack our most sacred places. Why are you here?"

My lip curls in frustration as I try to work out how to answer that question. Finally I say, "I'm trying to find a way to defeat five of these creatures who are much more heavily armed than these ones were. They seem to have taken a particular dislike to me."

"That is hardly my concern. However, if they should follow you here and my people suffer as a result, we will have words."

There's an ultimatum in his words that I have to bite my tongue to avoid answering. Instead an idea comes to my mind and I ask, "I would ask a favor of you Namor. Can you provide me with a place to examine the armor these five are wearing, and get something to eat and drink?"

His eyes narrow as he considers my request and after long moments he finally nods his head. "I will grant you what you ask for but on one condition."

"What's that?" I ask warily. Namor may play the angry, temper tantrum throwing child most of the time but he's also very perceptive and I can see that's the Namor I'm dealing with now.

"As we travel the short distance to the city with accommodations suitable for you, you will tell me the truth about these invaders."

There's no inch of give in his condition so I accept with as much grace as I can muster. Which unfortunately isn't much as I don't like losing, and I've been doing too much of it recently.

**Day Two: 11:47**

High above the Pacific the rain is pounding down on the ocean and me. Reprogramming the holographic projectors to work with the chameleon effect took more time than I was expecting. Now I have to hope that the plan is going to work.

It looks like I won't have to wait long as my scanners are picking up something approaching at high speed. Within a minute the object has closed enough that I can get a visual ID on it. It's one of the Stark Elite, and the largest of them as I guess he stands around about six-five or so. The Seahawks would be happy to have him on their defensive team I'm sure.

I hold my breath and my position as he comes to a hovering stop in front of me. "Report," is all he says.

The last thing he is probably expecting is for me to attack him. What's that old saying? Expect the unexpected. The canon I'm holding, concealed by the holographic camouflage, 

was the other reason it took me so long to get this plan into place. It's cobbled together from the armor of the Stark we defeated plus a few pieces Namor supplied. However, I think it's me that's more surprised by the outcome.

The focused EMP that the canon sends at the Stark should have been enough to knock out the electronics on a battleship. He just remains hovering there. Sure there's a few sparks but he's not dropping into the ocean like a stone as I expected. My shock lasts only long enough for him to begin irising open a plate on his chest. At that point I let discretion be the better part of honor and run for the ocean. The _beep beep_ in my ear lets me know that he's trying to target me with something so I run an erratic course in the hopes of shaking him off. I'm lucky in that fact that it works and I hit the water without taking a hit.

Once again I find myself needing the seconds it takes to change armor modes. Using the Evader mode was the only option for the first part of my plan but it's not going to help me now. With a command I change the outer layer of my armor to blend in with the water around me. Now I need a place to stop and change modes, and I know just the place. I can feel the ripples as the Stark enters the water behind me and I increase my speed. If he's smart, and I'm not going to bet against that, he should be able to see the wake my passage is causing. It's only a matter of seconds before I win my bet as the scanners tell me he's chasing me.

Pouring on the speed I reach the trench that I had found earlier and dive down into it. There's a small cave on the west wall and I tuck myself into it and let the chameleon circuit do the rest. This is the riskiest part of the plan as I have to hope that the Stark doesn't have a way to find me and that he's out of sight long enough to trigger the change.

He comes into view all angles and sharp lines. The green helm is swept backwards and I can't decide if it resembles a horse or a lizard. The yellow glow from the eye slits is disturbing. He doesn't slow down, and I can feel the waves from his scanners wash over me. Fortunately there's nothing he's using that this suit can't blank out. Then he's past me and heading further down the trench into the deeper areas.

As I hold my breath for another five seconds he doesn't reappear and my passive sensors tell me that's he's at the edge of my range. That's my cue as I say, "Enable Default Mode."

It feels very strange the way the suit reconfigures as there are points when I can feel the "liquid metal" flowing around me. That's not my biggest concern now though as I double over as pain erupts behind my eyes. Lights go off behind my closed eyelids and I find myself fighting to hold back the darkness that is rolling towards me. As the armor change completes the pain in my head slowly ebbs away and the blackness retreats. When I open my eyes I'm kneeling on the rock shelf with my head caught in my hands and my forehead pressed to the floor. I can feel my heart going a mile a minute and there's an alarm going off from the systems that monitor my body. I have to save the analysis for later though as I barely have the time to lever myself to my feet when twin repulsor blasts light up the trench and smash into the rock I'm standing on.

All I have time to do is activate the bootjets before an armored shoulder slams into my stomach crashing me into the wall. The armor is able to compensate for the blow but it stills shakes my teeth inside it. By instinct alone I polarize the skin of my armor and its enough to send the Stark far enough away to allow me to get off a double dose of repulsors right into his 

ugly mug. Then I'm off and running again although with a much smaller lead. It'll be enough though as I head for another spot that I picked out earlier.

Bursts of repulsor fire erupt around me and a few even find their target. It's enough to make me wobble a little but I siphon off some of the power for my own use. Then I leave a couple of small surprises in my wake for my pursuer. As he passes though the area the limpet mines race for the metal of his armor and as they hit they go off.

I take a moment to check to see if they caused any damage and to my surprise they actually slowed him down and left some damage on his armor. I take advantage of that and pour on the speed to reach my final destination. Turning around I fire up my pulse bolts and let them rip through the ocean and smash into the oncoming form. He comes right through them as they splash off the greenish-white field surrounding his armor.

As I start to think that my suspicions are right, the final part of my surprise plays it's hand. From the murkiness of the ocean floor the form of Namor the Sub-Mariner explodes and is upon the Stark before he even realizes what's going on. His shout of "Imperius Rex," is drowned out by the crashing blows he rains down on the armored form which send it crashing to the floor. I have to switch to infra-red thanks to the silt blown up by the landing although Namor seems to have no problem tracking him as he's on top of him before the Stark can right itself.

As I close in blue electricity runs over the form of Namor as he smacks the helm of the warrior again. To the surprise of the Stark, and myself, Namor actually grins like a predatory shark and grabs either side of the Stark's neck. The electricity runs back down his arms and surges against the armor of his opponent which causes him to jerk and jump. I don't waste the opportunity and race in and land a blow enhanced by the magnetic intensifiers in my gauntlets to the back of the creature helmet.

It splits wide open like a ripe melon and suddenly ocean pressure is playing directly against the form of the creature. The result isn't pretty but I remind myself that this was the fate he had in mind for me and the rest of the Earth.

"You were correct Stark," Namor tells me. "This one was vulnerable to variation in attacks from physical to energy. What are you going to do now?"

Just like Namor. No beating around the bush. This battle is over. What's next.

"First off I'd like to take advantage of your lab again to take a look at the armor he's wearing," I reply as I gesture to the Stark who is currently dropping to the ocean bed. "There's something going on here that I can't quite see and I'm hoping that a quick study of his armor will give me an insight into it. After that I'm going after the other four."

"You needed my help to beat this one, how do you plan on stopping four more of the creatures?"

I bite my tongue inside my helmet at the arrogance in his tone, but as much as I don't like to, I have to agree with him. My response is, "Let me take a look at that armor before I answer that."

**Day Three 08:00**

My head hurts and my eyes feel like they are filled with sand. Not too surprising as I've had about three hours sleep in the last seventy two hours. I'm operating on little more than adrenaline and caffeine at this point so I need to find the other three Stark and finish this. I left Namor about three hours ago and I've been doing a high aerial scout of Seattle ever since. I'm back in the armor's Evader mode so I feel pretty safe.

I so want to fly down and switch to Heavy mode and blast the many groups of aliens I've seen, but I don't think that's going to be the answer to this war. The key lays in stopping the leaders of this mad race. Now I just need to find them.

It would be easy to track them down if I could use my full scanner array but in addition to me finding them, it'll also let them know where I am. Hence, I'm limited to the passive scanners. I go over all the possible locations they could be, which when you have a whole world to consider, is a lot. Then it strikes me and I want to slap myself for not considering it earlier but the tiredness is making it hard to think straight. Turning to the north I head to my own house and the Skunkworks beneath it. Even if I'm not there, there's enough of my old armor and tech that would be of interest to the Stark.

As I come up on the house from two thousand feet above I can see the trail of someone leaving and heading south. From the scan I run it's one of the five who originally attacked me. Where he's going I have no idea but I do play with the idea of chasing him down as he's on his own. However, what I see of my home freezes the blood in my veins before melting it with a torrent of rage. The entire place is decimated and is now little more than a ruin. There are rips in the landscape that dive down into the earth and there are Stark moving around everywhere.

The computer in my armor gives me the distance between myself and the ground and I calculate in my head how long it would take me to fall that distance. It might seem like a strange thing to think about at a time like this, but I need to switch armor modes. The numbers tell me that I need to be higher so I send myself upwards another fifteen thousand feet. Without thinking about the dangers involved in what I'm about to do I trigger the change, "Enable Heavy Mode."

As the nanotech flows out of the ports in my back the armor begins to change. Unfortunately that means that the bootjets go inoperational which means that I begin to fall. Given the distance I gave myself that shouldn't be a problem, but when the pain slams into my head and everything goes black, the last thought I have is, _This is going to hurt._

It can only be seconds until I open my eyes again but things have changed in that brief period that I blacked out. First of all, and perhaps most important given my circumstances, the bulk of the Heavy armor surrounds me. As there must be twenty Stark also surrounding me I figure that's a good thing. Of course, there may only be ten Stark and I might be seeing double. I try to focus through the throbbing in my head on the HUD and the voice coming from outside. "As Regent of the Stark Eternal I claim the right to make our race Uncreated."

Without waiting I have the computer lock onto Laserface and rammed into him taking the both of us into the air. With a cry of rage that I hadn't even realized I'd been holding in I slammed both hands into the chest of Laserface with enough force to level a skyscraper. The only reason I get as far as I do with that assault was the surprise factor. I don't think that they thought there was any danger as I appeared to have been hanging in the air some five feet above the ground thanks to the safety measure I'd built into this suit. Not something I had wanted to have tested under these circumstances but the computer had activated the bootjets automatically when I hadn't responded. Then it had injected a stimulant into me.

As Lazerface drops away below me I arc my trajectory back towards the house and the other Stark. As I come in fast and low a barrage of energy blasts sweeps the sky around me. Some splash against the armor but nothing with enough power to dent this particular configuration. There's a clear difference between the Elite Stark and the normal variety and that makes it easy to pick out the two remaining ones.

My first task is to disable the normal Stark and thanks to the fact that they have raided my lab I have a very easy way to begin that. Activating my communications array I send a coded transmission down onto the battlefield that was once my home. The resulting blasts as the pieces of my old armor detonate bring a snarling grin to my lips. I'd only added that failsafe after Stane took control of the suits recently but it proved that I had been right to do so.

Several of the Stark go down but not as many as I had hoped. So I set the gattling attachments in my gauntlet cuffs to rail gun mode and it sends out dense pieces of metal that make a mess of the normal Stark. Unlike the previous battle I've not lost track of the Elite and when two of them come at me from either side I'm ready. I reset the gattling attachment on my right wrist and shoot a small pellet at the Stark approaching from that side while I pepper the one on my left with repulsor blasts. I don't wait to see the results although the sound of something heavy hitting the ground tells me that the little gizmo I had whipped together in Namor's labs worked. Within moments I'm high in the air again with just one of the Stark tracking me.

At least it's one for now as I show Laserface shooting towards me from where I dropped him earlier. I don't have the speed in this suit to outrun them so I choose the other option. Sending a blast of magnetized plasma at the other Stark Elite I then spin only to meet a punch that crashes into the side of my helm thanks to Laserface. The force sends me rolling to one side but as I tumble I recalibrate the gattling system and launch a series of small black globes at my attacker.

I watch as the first two fly past and the third is pulverized by a repulsor blast. Four and five get through and splat against the Stark Regent's armor. Then I grin around the coppery taste in my mouth as the two that flew past arc around and slap into his back. The stuff has the consistency of silly putty and under normal circumstances is inert. Right now, it's in contact with metal, which means that it isn't inert. In seconds each of the black patches has doubled in size, and in another second it's doubled again. That's about all the time they get though as Laserface is suddenly surrounded by a yellowish-white glow. The black patches are pushed away and then they're suddenly free falling to the earth far below. Just to be sure, I target them with an electrical burst from the omni cannon on my shoulder as it wouldn't be a pretty sight to see them growing after they hit the earth.

For the record, they were something that Namor provided me with and they've done their job well as there are now large gaping holes in Laserface's armor. I'm about to take advantage of 

that fact when the Stark I hit with the magnetized plasma catches me napping with a pulse bolt to the small of the back. The force sends me rolling and I shake my head to clear the flashing lights that go off in it.

That cost me the time to avoid fists that smash into me but in this suit they have little effect other than to keep me off balance. Unfortunately when they continue to rain down it doesn't give me time to plan a response. So I do the only thing I can - I lash out blindly with an arm and get lucky. That buys me a short respite and I make the most of it. With a command I switch the ammunition in the gattling cuff and send two blue-white shells into the armor of the Stark. He's too close to avoid them and they smash on impact coating his armor at those points with Freon.

Now, Freon has an interesting quality – it rapidly reduces the temperature of anything in contact with it. So, what happens when metal is cooled rapidly? The follow up discharge of high density metal shot from the rail gun aimed at those points gives the answer – it makes it very fragile. Two big chucks of the armor shatter and I try to follow up with a blast of electricity but my opponent doesn't give me a chance as he sends a repulsor blast directly at my omni cannon. That's when my luck runs out as the thing explodes thanks to the charge it was building up, and the world around me goes black once more.

**Day Four 12:17**

I really did't expect to wake up this time but the armor's automated response system appears to be working better than I could have hoped. The clock on the HUD tells me I've been unconscious for more than twenty four hours and that scares me. I check the other read outs and what they don't tell me is more worrying that what they do. They don't tell me why I feel as weak as a new born kitten.

Right now I don't have time to worry about that though. I need to find out what's happened and equally importantly, where I am. The latter is easy. I simply pull up the armor's GPS system and then my jaw drops open as I discover that I'm thousands of miles away from Seattle. To be exact I'm hovering at twenty five thousand feet above an island called Majuro in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. There's only one way I can think of that I could have gotten here but I pull up the system logs to confirm my suspicion.

The Canadian hero, Guardian, has a suit that allows him to put himself at rest in relation to the motion of the Earth. I've basically stolen the idea and incorporated it into the Heavy mode of the Living Iron armor. However, the drain that it puts on the armor is incredible. That gives me the final part of the puzzle as to why I've been out for so long. The destruction of the omni cannon should have been enough to knock me for a loop, but the inertial halt drew on so much power that it started to drain my own bio-electric energy. It's what I've been fearing has been happening. This suit of armor might be my greatest creation, but it's also capable of killing me.

That's something for another day. For now I need to find out where the remaining Stark Elite are and stop them. This time I have a plan thanks to the information I've gathered from the Stark armor I've been able to analyze and from my last fight with them. As I go over the data in my head I drop down to land on the island. There's really not much too the place as it's no 

more than a quarter mile wide at any point and its seventy mile length is wrapped into a horseshoe. I don't think the people have seen a superhero before as they go running for cover. What little there is of it. This really is the opposite end of the spectrum from my hi-tech home – cinder block homes for the most part, with a few that are little more than tin sheets leaning together. Something for later though. Right now I need to get back into things.

"Enable Evader mode."

The armor slims down, the coils pull back and the cuffs disappear as the Evader mode forms around me. There are a few stars in my eyes as the change takes place but this mode draws so much less power that it's not the drain of the other modes. As my vision clears once more I activate my boots and go soaring into the sky. I'm heading back for the states but this time I'm taking the sub-orbital route. Since my plan calls for me to be able to find the Stark Elite I tap into the communication array and patch into the local satellites.

My stomach drops out and I feel sicker than I have at any point in my life. The destruction and damage is horrendous, both in the amount and how widespread it is. I can't let that get to me now though. I've got to get myself ready as there are still four, no make that three as I see that one of them was killed by Firebird. My heart almost breaks at that news. Poor Bonita. What this must be doing to her.

Putting it all aside I pull up the system code for the Heavy mode and then zero in on the weapon systems and the changes I made after killing the first of the Stark Elite under the ocean. This is the weapon that will give me a chance in the battle to come. It's not actually a weapon though. It's more of a jamming device that blocks some of the power that the Stark suits use from reaching them. However, with their power levels cut, I'll have a chance.

I reach the apex of my arc and then turn to plummet back to the earth. My target is Seattle once again as it appears that two of the Stark Elite are there according to the feeds I'm receiving from the news satellite I'm plugged into. I target an abandoned area along the Sound and in under two minutes I've landed. The reason for landing here? Pretty simple – I need to switch into the Heavy armor and given what's likely to happen I don't need to be in a fight when I do it. I take a deep breath and then say the magic words, hoping that they aren't the last ones I ever say.

The changes begin immediately as does the throbbing pain that erupts in my head. I was expecting that, along with the darkness that tries to consume me. What screws my face up tight is the pain that bursts in my chest. It drives the darkness away but at the same times sends me to my knees. I try to breath through it but it reminds me too closely of what I went through when I had the shrapnel lodged near my heart.

Slowly the pain ebbs away and I kneel there trying to get enough air into my lungs. Eventually I drag myself back to my feet and check the diagnostics. The suit checks out fine and even the omni cannon has been rebuilt. However, the stats I get on my own body are nowhere near as good. I ignore them for now. I've made my decision so what happens, happens.

I take to the air again heading quickly for the area that I had identified previously. As I get within visual range I have a surprise awaiting me. The two Stark Elite are there and they're fighting a fifty foot tall stone statue. The computer quickly identifies the figure as IT! There's 

only minimal info on him and that I pretty much guess for myself – strength, durability and invulnerability. However, I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I change my original plan slightly to include him.

I'm not going to have much chance of surprise here so I come in low and fast behind one of the Stark. As I launch the first of the power leeches I can see that it's Barebelly - the Stark that I hit with Freon earlier. The leech clamps to his armor and he drops twenty feet before he compensates for the reduced power he is getting.

As I come around the immense torso of IT! I fire the second leech and it must be my lucky day as it also hits and attaches to the other Stark. Then I set my speakers to high volume and shout, "IT! This is Iron Man. Go after the Stark on your right and I'll deal with this one. Try to aim for the unarmored points."

As I say that I realize that it was pretty stupid. How an earth is he supposed to target something that small with him being so big. Hopefully he'll find a way.

For myself I focus on the other Stark, who I'm officially calling Deadboy and let loose with a spray of metal from the rail gun on my wrist and follow it up with a blast of red hot plasma from the cannon. I'm not expecting either attack to do much more than keep his attention as I slam into him with two magnetically enhanced fists.

I'm actually surprised by the damage his armor is showing from the attacks so I keep up the pressure as he's sent backwards from my punches. Repulsors are followed up by a pair of force bolts which are followed by a high intensity laser barrage. As he crashes into the ground with enough force to shake several of the standing buildings I decide to risk one more attack. The omni cannon swivels to track him and them lets loose with an EM pulse. It's going to knock out the power leech but I'm hoping that it'll also knock out his armor. I turn out to be partially right.

With an effort he gets to his feet as I hover overhead. It's plain that some of his systems are out but he still lifts his arm and sends a bolt of blue energy screaming my way. I slip to one side as I activate the force shield on my gauntlet and deflect the energy back at him. While most of it rains back down knocking DeadBoy off his feet, there's too much force for the shield to handle and some of it hits directly and runs into the armor.

I have no idea what energy it is but it plays havoc with my systems and I come crashing down on top of the nearly unconscious Stark. I'm glad to see that IT as knocked BareBelly to the ground and as I fall to the earth I smile as he brings a huge stone foot down on him. I doubt if there'll be little more than a smear left after that.

My own impact sends shock waves around the area again and my head smacks against the helm. As I work on getting back to my feet I feel something grab the gauntlet that was damaged by the energy attack. Within seconds I can feel something trying to invade the armor and grab control from me. With a smile I don't fight it directly. As the Genetic Protocols kick in I hear the scream as the Stark is kicked back out.

Then I realize he wasn't the only one screaming as my chest is on fire again. I thrash and spasm on the ground hoping that the pain will subside. Then the darkness claims me.


	31. A Time To Plan

Iron Man

Chapter 31: A Time To Plan

The SHIELD medical team did their work well. A hastily-assembled team of surgeons, biologists, and bioengineers worked around the clock for nearly thirty hours mending the damaged Tony Stark. While attending to the cuts, bruises, and fractures were relatively routine tasks, they soon discovered that their patient had a far more urgent malady.

Stark was infected with the transmode virus, the same metallorganic virus that wiped out the god-hating aliens that stormed Earth. When it was transmitted into the armors of those creatures, it also found its way into his nervous system; fitting, perhaps, in that their futuristic armament was based on his own original design.

Fortunately for the brilliant inventor, the same nanotechnology that the T-O virus targeted also slowed its progress through Stark's body; it was as if the combination of human flesh and cybernetic steel baffled the volatile strain. Thus, it crept very slowly through his body, its rate of progress significantly impeded, but not stopped, by the ports that once housed his Living Iron Armor.

Enter the Brain Trust, the ad hoc scientific task force whose ranks included Reed Richards, Henry Pym, Hank McCoy, and others whose intellect ranked with the best the world had to offer. They gathered one final time, and sadly discovered that they could not cure their ally; the virus extended into the very fibers of his DNA. So they went to work on a device that would stop the virus from inevitably spreading. Little did they realize the irony that would envelop the creation of their medical miracle.

**Baltimore, Maryland. Two days after the invasion was repelled.**

James Rhodes was the first person granted access to Stark's recovery room who was not a physician. After a thorough security screening process, and a final patdown by one of the guards stationed outside Stark's chamber, the former Marine pilot leaned toward the door. He was so eager to see his injured friend that he barely heard the SHIELD agent say, "You're good to go - you have ten minutes."

Tony was awake when Rhodes carefully approached his bed, sitting up and dressed in a pair of perfectly tailored pajamas. Smiling, he said, "Jim. It's about time you made it in here to see me. Hell, I figured you'd have been right there in the operating room."

"Would have if I could have, but you know me - all thumbs," the one-time Iron Man replied quietly, mentally inventorying the damage that he could see. Stark had a bandage over his left cheek, a blackened left eye, his right forearm was in a cast, and there were numerous cuts. Rhodes could not remember a time when the technogenius looked so tired. Or so fragile.

"How are you, Tony? Really."

The inventor's eyes involuntarily traced a path downward, and he chuckled rather unconvincingly. "Sore. Very, very sore. And the food in here isn't helping matters, any -"

"I heard," Rhodes interrupted, forcefully but laced with compassion. "I already heard, man. I am so sorry - sorry you can't just get away from that damn thing."

Stark slowly unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it open to reveal a thin, metallic breastplate. It evoked bitter memories of an accident that occurred over a decade earlier, one in which a burst of shrapnel burrowed within millimeters of his heart. This chest plate - or life vest, as Stark and its inventors now called it - was held in place by six synthetic leather straps that crisscrossed his bare shoulders and back.

The battered champion fixed a firm look on Rhodes. "I just need time, Rhodey, that's all. I am not going to let this virus get the best of me. As God is my witness, I'm not going to live the rest of my life wearing this damned plate on my chest."

Rhodes slowly smirked. "Now that sounds good to me. Besides, that'll mess with your tan real bad."

Tony responded with a weak, tired smile. "So… what else is going on out there? I haven't been getting nearly the amount of news that I'd like in here… how are we coping with the damage done by the Stark?"

The retired War Machine hesitated; when he spoke, his words were laden with sadness and frustration. "People don't know, chief. They don't understand… I mean, hell, it wasn't your fault. Alright… Tony, people are blaming you for what happened. They just saw a bunch of intergalactic murderers wreaking havoc all over the world, using your name and your tech, and… they're still scared, and confused, and lookin' for a target for their frustrations."

"And that's where I come in," interrupted Tony. A wave of guilt washed over him, and he cast his gaze toward the ceiling.

"Yeah. You're the new Benedict Arnold, at least until everybody calms down and listens."

"Terrific. Just terrific." Stark changed the subject; he had to. "What else? How's my house? How's Stark Solutions doing?"

"Well, Ms. Arbogast has construction crews working nonstop on your house and lab - I tell ya, she's really keeping things together. That lady's tough. A couple of weeks, things should be good as new. Of course, she's paying them triple wages - like I said, people really aren't that keen to do business with you anymore, but Ms. A. knows that money cuts through a lot of that crap."

Stark shook his head in disbelief. "I feel like I'd lose a popularity contest with Hussein and bin Laden right now. And to think, right before the invasion, I had such grand plans. I was going to put the small-scale consulting behind us, and get back what I never should have lost in the first place - Stark Enterprises. But now… who would want to work with me? For me?

He reached for the pad of paper that sat on a small table beside his bed, and started writing notes on it, and in some cases, drawing lines through portions of text. A couple of minutes later, he turned to his colleague. "Rhodey? The last thing I remember up until a couple of days ago was fighting the Stark in Seattle, where I got caught in the virus-transmission wave. Then, I woke up here, under SHIELD's ever-watchful eye. What the hell happened?"

"Luck happened. After you broke out of Omnus, we lost you - you just fell off the map, man; nothing we had could track you or find you. Then, like three days later, you pop up outta nowhere over the Pacific Ocean. But by the time I got one of the jets ready to get you, you were hightailing it back home. I caught up to you when you and that giant rock-guy were working over the Stark… when you collapsed, you were a mess, drifting in and out of consciousness. I managed to get you to peel back some of your armor, so when SHIELD showed up, I let them have you. I told them that you put on a spare set of armor for protection - they seemed to buy it. Then, while a group called the Sentinels of Liberty ran a bunch of decoy missions, you were transported here."

Tony nodded, satisfied with the alibi his friend had provided; he could well imagine the number of times Rhodes had to think of similar excuses when he had to "armor up". Before the industrialist could thank him, a knock on the hospital door signaled the arrival of a tall, genial-looking doctor, who looked at the pilot and said, "Time's up, Mr. Rhodes. You can always come back tomorrow - just make an appointment with reception on the way out, if you like."

"Wait," Stark said, handing a sheet of paper to Rhodes. "Take care of this for me. I need.. to talk to some people… get things straightened away."

The former Marine was visibly surprised after taking a quick peek at the list. "You sure about this?"

The next day, Tony was confident that his most valued employee-slash-best friend-slash-savior would be getting things done. He knew he would soon receive a stream of visitors that, under most circumstances, would not have gotten within a mile of the SHIELD medial complex. He could only imagine the verbal (he assumed, at least) arm-wringing the big man from Philadelphia employed.

Bethany Cabe was the first person to see him that morning. Despite all of the tragedy that had occurred over the past several days, she looked as gorgeous as ever; if she was taken back by the sight of the still-frail Stark, she did not show it. Tony kissed her on the cheek when she arrived.

"I was informed by the bed-nazis out there that we'd only have ten minutes," she snickered. "I guess we'll have to save the transcription of your biography until you're back at your desk. Rhodey said you wanted me to handle some of your business..?"

"Yep. First off, I need you to get Pepper and Ms. Arbogast to find out which employees are still loyal to me… given my newfound status as the most hated man on Earth, I imagine people are contemplating jumping ship, if they haven't already. Well, let 'em. However, we have to know who's truly in, and truly out."

"I'll get the girls on it right away. What about the people who don't work for you - your suppliers, the companies you're consulting with right now… how are you going to get contracts?"

Stark rolled his eyes. "Don't know yet. Will everybody stop doing business with me? That's a good question - I just hope that this… fear is something that will eventually fade with time. Honestly, though, we'll just have to weather this storm for as long as it takes."

"However," he continued, "there is always the possibility that someone, an old enemy or a new one, might try something foolish where it pertains to my business… and my health. So you're going to have to address a couple of my security concerns."

"The security checks," Cabe replied, her voice evincing absolutely no enthusiasm.

"Hey, I'm not about to ask you to wear the suit again. I need you to be my very public protector, a bodyguard in every sense of the word. But the world needs an Iron Man - now more than ever, to be brutally honest about it - and we'll need a couple of fill-ins until I'm healed up."

"A couple?"

"A couple. One for the Avengers, and one for Stark Solutions. I have a good idea as to which of the three candidates I want assigned to the team in California… it's just a matter of finding them and offering them the jobs."

The beautiful security specialist frowned. "Tony - you don't have to do this. You've done more in one lifetime than… why not retire now, while you still can?"

Stark took Cabe's hand into his. "Bethany…. I'm not going to quit or give up. I did that before, when I fell into the bottle, and it hurt too many people, - it's a guilt I'll never live down. Quitting isn't an option for me, never again. So, please, do me this favor - find and interview Clay Wilson, Donny Gill, and Brendan Doyle. Let's see if they're suitable… so to speak."

At the stroke of midnight, Stark welcomed a pair of rather famous guests to his room. Despite the fact that they were both recognized, even in their civilian identities, Giant-Man and Tigra were subjected to the same security protocols as anybody else. An inconvenience, but mercifully brief.

The two Avengers entered the room hand in hand, something that did not go unnoticed by the battered billionaire. Realizing that, up until this moment, their marriage was practically a secret, they quickly conveyed the details of their Las Vegas ceremony, hoping that the news would cheer Stark up. It did, though he did his best to play the naysayer. "Vegas? That is so cliché - and hardly the thing I'd expect from a mousy, introverted scientist such as yourself, Hank."

Tigra laughed when Pym's face reddened, and he cracked, "This coming from Mr. Permanent Bachelor. Why did we even waste our time telling you?"

Henry Pym sighed, and took a few seconds to look at his teammate, who was pacing around his room, his pajama top open. He slowly shook his head and cracked a mournful smile. 

"Who would have thought that, after forming the Avengers all those years ago, me and you would have gone through so many terrible things in our lives?"

"We can't all be thunder gods, I guess," Tony replied, his small smile matching Pym's. Between his bouts of alcoholism, the numerous and often paralyzing physical trauma he had endured, and Giant-Man's periods of mental instability, the past ten years would definitely not be remembered as a time of idyllic bliss.

"Aw, you'll always be a god in my book, Tony," Tigra offered, "the hunky, smart, rich one. The hunky, smart, rich one that everybody misses, too, by the way."

Tony _tap-tapped_ the life vest that kept the transmode virus in check. "Good thing your husband knows a thing or two about wires and gears, too - he saved my life. All of the men that worked on me - I'm grateful, more than you'll ever know. Hmm… I just wish I could have been awake to help you design it."

Pym put his left hand on Tony's shoulder. "Listen. If I ever get too big for my proverbial britches again, you'll be the first person I call."

The inventor nodded in mock approval, then, knowing that their time together was limited, handed a thin folder to the size-changing scientist. "I've started to make arrangements for you to have Iron Man - _an_ Iron Man - on the team until I'm healthy enough to rejoin the team. These are just my personal notes on him; you'll have a full dossier on him soon, probably by the end of the week."

"So Jim won't be the one getting back in the armor?" Tigra asked.

"No. I don't imagine he ever will. But this man is just as savvy a fighter, an experienced soldier, and used to fighting in a high-tech armor against superhuman opponents. That said, I'll be designing an armor specifically for him - superficially similar to the last one I used, but less powerful… simpler. _And_, it will have a remote shut-down device in it, whereby you or I can power it down immediately. Just in case."

"Just in case?" Giant-Man repeated. "That sounds rather ominous."

"I sincerely believe that we'll never have to use it. As… cunning as he tends to be, he's motivated by one thing: money. This is going to be a job for him, plain and simple. Sure, he might pull a Thunderbolts on us and renounce his mercenary ways, but I'm not counting on it. Thus, my assigning Doyle to your watch. If he decided to play ball with us, he can be an immediate asset, but one you'll have to keep your eye on."

"We can't afford any trouble," Pym argued, "not after everything's that just happened. The team's in a pretty fragile state right now, to say the very least, and I don't want this character upsetting matters any further. One misstep - the slightest show of subordination - and he's gone. We don't need his additional firepower that badly."

"Agreed. Ideally? The Avengers West Coast don't see combat until I'm back, and you can use him for other constructive assignments. Trust me on this one - it's a temporary solution. Just till I come back."

Tigra put her arm around her husband's waist. "Tony's got a point. We do need the help - with Firebird gone, we're missing some serious muscle. God forbid another armada from outer space should appear on the horizon. But - you're sure he won't cause problems?"

"If he does," Tony answered, with a force in his voice that he had not heard in several days, "then I'll deal with him myself. He only gets one chance to impress me."

A male nurse brought Tony another notepad to write in the next afternoon. "Everything OK in here, Mr. Stark? Do you need anything else before my shift's over?"

"No, not right now, thanks," the inventor replied. The attendant shrugged affably, and turned to leave. However, he did not pull the door open. Instead, he locked it, and did a 180-degree turn back to Stark's bed. When he looked down at the surprised industrialist, he folded his arms in front of his chest.

"I'll be brief, Mr. Stark," the green-clad man began. "I'm just the messenger, a nobody whose name and face you needn't bother memorizing. My superiors wanted me to ask you a couple of questions… you don't mind helping me out, do you?"

Tony remained silent, more curious than afraid, and the strange infiltrator continued. "I'll assume that's a yes, then… surely you realize by now how… unwanted your services have become to corporate America, and indeed, anybody else. Despite your vast intellect, the industrial and technological communities want nothing to do with you. When you leave this facility, you'll be ignored, rejected - no one will contract you to do anything. You'll be out of business in a week."

"Are you just here to gloat, or do you have something to say?"

"Indeed I do," the faux-nurse answered. "You do have one…customer… that is willing to look past these allegations of providing arms to alien terrorists. Despite the catastrophic harm that befell Earth, we know how good you are at what you do. And what you have always done well is make weapons. If you were to get back into that business, then I assure you, you would never have to worry about losing your company or money again, insofar as you'd always have a willing business partner at the table."

Stark cursed under his breath. "You're with the government. Goddamn it, I should have known… trying to threaten me, scare me into doing what you want, what you need… you have some nerve."

The lanky man in olive green uncrossed his arms, and held them out in front of him. "Calm down, Mr. Stark, please - this is a free country. No one wants to force you to do anything… that would just be plain wrong. But… when you go back to work - assuming you have any workers left by then - you'll appreciate the generosity of the offer. When you have to sell everything you own at a dime on the dollar, you'll wonder how bad we really are. And we're not. We merely want to insure that this country - our country - remains a global superpower."

"Get out. Now!"

"Suit yourself." The courier walked back to the door and unlocked it. "You know where to find us."

James Rhodes returned to see Stark two days later, carrying a massive lunch basket that no doctor or SHIELD guard could tear from his grip. The brawny pilot could not bear to see his friend of over ten years eating hospital food any longer. Even if SHIELD's pantry was better than the average medical facility's, Rhodes would have no more of it.

He closed the door behind him with an authoritative push, shaking his head in embellished disgust. "Man, you'd think they thought I was smuggling you a file in a cake! Overzealous creeps…"

"They're just doing their job - what would you do if some maniac tried to give me a package, blathering that it was my best interest to take it?"

"Are you calling me a maniac now? Try to do a friend a favor…" Rhodes playfully let his voice trail off. "Anyways. Got some news to report for you, some good, some what you expected."

"You know the drill," Stark said as he looked at the fluorescent clock on the wall, "time's short."

"Yeah. Alright, first, Bethany found Doyle at an arms trade show in Florida and gave him your offer. After he got over his initial shock at being offered the Iron Man gig, he agreed - guess the mercenary business isn't payin' what it used to, 'cause I doubt that a guy that used to call himself the Mauler before you busted him is suddenly, shall we say, repentant in his ways."

"One down, then. What else?"

"Clay Wilson won't do it. Him helping' out in the 'Iron Legion' a couple of years ago was a one-time thing, I guess. Bethany says he's still gunshy about suiting up again - and speaking from experience, I guess I can understand."

Stark nodded. "Yeah. It's just… frustrating. He would have been perfect for the role of Stark Solutions' in-house protector. All he had to do was stay in the public eye for a little while - people would have known that SS was guarded from any attack, superhuman or not."

"Doesn't mean he won't help out, though." Rhodes opened a can of soda and put it in Tony's left hand. "Clay wants to train Gill. Couldn't hurt, if you ask me - the man spent years of his life as Force, so he's used to going to war in a jazzed-up suit of armor. Gill's not. Sure, he has some experience, but let's face it - the Blizzard costume's a far cry from one of the rigs you or me are used to wearing. One more thing - we don't have to explain why a fancy-pants brainiac like yourself knows so much about armored combat. After all, it might raise some questions in the kid's head if you're showing him what to do."

"Good point. Knowing my luck, I'd slip up and tell him how easy it was for me to beat him… and too many people know who I really am, anyways."

The ex-Marine pulled a pair of submarine sandwiches from the basket, and began unwrapping them. "You know when you're getting out of here yet?"

"Two or three days, if all goes well. Reed Richards and Scott Lang are coming by tomorrow to do another diagnostic on the life vest, and Erica Sondheim wants to recheck the cybernetic implants that are keeping me upright. Assuming all goes well, I'm looking at the end of the week. We have a lot to do, Jim. And me sitting around in my jammies - as comfortable as they may be - isn't getting it done."

"I hear that," Rhodes agreed, then he suddenly tapped his forehead. "Oh yeah. Omnus Industries. SHIELD still has it locked down. You don't still want to buy it, do you?"

Stark smiled devilishly. "You bet I do. For everything that bastard and his cloned son did to me over the years - hell, and last week, for that matter? Absolutely. I'll take anything I can from Stane, even if I'm taking it from his grave… he nearly destroyed me, in every way imaginable. I'm just taking what I deserve… as soon as I'm back in Seattle, it's mine."

His best friend gently punched him in the arm, and walked toward the door. "Now that's the Tony Stark I remember. The cool, competent businessman that you don't want to piss off. I'll catch you tomorrow." He threw him a casual salute as he left.

As soon as the door shut, Tony's smile vanished. He hated lying to Jim - though what he said about Stane was absolutely true, he also knew that he was withholding the rest of the truth, for he did not want to alarm the man to whom he owed his life. Ever since Stark was afflicted with the transmode virus, he wondered how he could defeat it. It was not a matter of if, in his mind; it was simply a matter of when, and how. And every strategy he formulated came back to Stane, to Omnus Industries, and the machinery that its walls contained.


	32. Out Of The Fire

Iron Man

Chapter 32: Out Of The Fire..

In retrospect, Bambi Arborgast would have said the three man who entered the temporary offices of Stark Solutions did not look very notable. They were Asian, tall and lean and seemingly in their early 20's. They wore well-tailored wool overcoats and black gloves. Yes, they were apparently of that annoying sub-set of humanity that felt they needed to wear sunglasses _everywhere_, but that didn't make them bad people.

Usually, Mrs. Arbogast would not be greeting them in the lobby of the just-leased 14th floor of a building on Market Street. As the personal executive assistant to Mr. Stark, her post was in her boss' home off the mainland. But with his home decimated by the Stark and Tony himself still bedridden in a Maryland hospital, she had taken it upon herself to supervise the conversion of the space into offices for the company's small administrative staff.

She had heard that Mr. Stark had already begun negotiations to buy back Stark Enterprises from the Fujikawas, and that they would be moving soon to the East Coast. Mrs. Arborgast couldn't wait; something about the Pacific sea spray that seemed to shroud this city 24/7 didn't agree with her.

"Good morning, gentlemen, and welcome to Stark Solutions," Bambi said with a smile pasted on her matronly face. "How may we help you?"

The man in the center cleared his throat. Mrs. Arborgast caught a whiff of something that reminded her of when the pilot light blew out in her home. "We...would like to see...Mr. Stark," he said in accented English; Mrs. Arborgast placed the man as being Chinese, arguably from one of the major population centers.

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Arborgast said, still maintaining that smile. "Mr. Stark is not on-site today. Can somebody else help you?"

The three men shuddered at the news. At first, Mrs. Arborgast thought it was a reaction to the dust kicked up by construction or the air conditioning. But the shuddering became more violent, turning into spasms.

And then the three visitors' coats tore to allow them to unfurl large, vaned wings akin to a bat's.

And then the visitors' gloves shredded to allow for the growth of lengthy talons.

And the man in the center roared.

"You know, you don't have to see him, boss," James Rhodes said as he oversaw the installation of the closed-circuit satellite feed in Tony Stark's hospital room. "I wouldn't give his sorry butt the time of day."

Tony nodded. He was looking healthier in the last few days, but the outline of the life vest he now wore to keep the techno-organic virus contained reminded him that it would be a long time before he was well again. "His aid was instrumental in helping us defeat the Stark, Rhodey. As much as I disapprove of what he stands for, I owe him this."

"I dunno, Tones," Rhodey said. "Given what your rep is right now, if it ever got out that you've met with one of the worst dictators of our time..."

"That's why you're the only one here to help me today," Tony pointed out. "Because of all the people in my life, I trust you the most."

James Rhodes was silent for a moment. He stared at his employer and best friend for a long time, hundreds of things begging to be said. "I still think this sucks," he finally told Tony before turning on the satellite feed, closing the curtains and leaving the room.

It took a moment for the high-tech communications device to locate the tightbeam feed that was being uploaded from somewhere in Eastern Europe. Tony waited, listening to the white noise of the uplink sending information to the satellite and ignored the way his heartbeat was increasing. He was nervous, not because of who he was going to talk with, but what the conversation may be about.

Finally, the flat LCD screen came to life. Tony took in the sight of a man sitting on a battered and singed throne, a golden goblet in his hand. Startlingly vivid brown eyes stared out of a mask of dull grey metal, a mask that had--even thus far from the cataclysm of the Stark Invasion--probably seen better days.

"Stark," the man on the throne boomed with a voice like velvet, "Doom appreciates your punctuality. Let us speak of your future."

"Thank you for comin' with me, Wonder Man," Brendan Doyle said to Simon Williams as the two flew towards the site of BioDrome Scientific. "I appreciate th' back-up."

"No problem," the ionic powered strongman code-named Wonderman replied. "And it's Simon, okay?"

"Sure, Simon, and I'm Brendan," The red-and-gold armored man replied. He gestured toward a plume of smoke coming from the small two-stories building directly ahead of them. "I'm thinking the wee situation Ms. Cabe asked me t'look into is there."

The two men banked as one and headed toward the sight of the distress. "I'm surprised you're doing this. Hank had told us you were hired solely to help us."

"Aye...well, Mr. Stark is interested in buying out this company, and since it looked like 'parahuman interference,' and I was closer than th' other Iron Man...Stark still pays me fee, ya know."

As they approached, Brendan worked the chin toggle to switch to his targeting eyepiece. Another set of eye movements put a heat filter over the lens, to prevent the vectoring 

software from being confused by the assumed flames. He switched menus on the HUD, manipulated his chin toggle and was rewarded with the boot jets' noise-reduction baffles clicking into place.

_Like ridin' a bike_, Brendan thought to himself.

What the two men saw as they closed distance was a man standing before a ruined wall, overseeing a group of other men clad all in black as they carried away boxes of equipment. The supervisor of the raid, evidentially Asian, was stripped to the waist--all the better to display the multitude of boils and pustules that covered his entire body. He turned to face the two arrivals, and his eyes crinkled in mirth. He spoke in a language Simon didn't recognize.

"What?"

"It's Cantonese," Brendan said. "He was telling his lackeys that we've arrived just as the Doctor expected."

"Didn't know you spoke Cantonese."

"You travel the world shooting people for a living, you pick things up."

"Who's the doctor?" Simon asked as he landed in front of one black-clad robber. With one hand he deftly removed the box from his arms.

Before Brendan could tell his fellow Avenger that he didn't know, a selection of the man's pustules opened up, spraying both men with a thick reddish mist.

"The Learned Doctor greets you," the man said in halting, thickly accented English, as Brendan found the mist getting into his lungs, clogging his throat. "And wishes to deliver a message to your master...said message requiring your cooling corpses.."

Many people who spent time around Anthony Stark--from his days running Stark International, to his founding of Stark Enterprises, right on to now--wondered why dowdy, overweight, brittle Bambi Arbogast stayed in his employ. After all, this was a man who seemed to be targeted on a weekly basis by criminal masterminds, aliens and monsters; surely the woman who looked like someone's maiden aunt couldn't handle all the high-pressure intrigue?

Invariably, these people who questioned her didn't know enough about Bambi Arborgast. They wouldn't know about her distinguished term of service with the United States Army, or the Purple Heart she received while serving during the first Gulf War. They certainly wouldn't know about her membership--with honors--in The International Adventurer's Club, a private organization accessible only to those people who had done remarkable deeds of derring-do.

They would not know that Bambi Arbogast stayed on Tony Stark's payroll because he knew there was no person better suited for the job.

When confronted with the fact that these three visitors spouted wings and claws, Bambi did what any ex-soldier would have done worth her salt. Her hands went directly into the pocket of her jeans. Her left hand closed around the can of Police-issued mace she had obtained from one of Mr. Stark's friends, a police detective named Plexico. The right hand closed around a metal tube similar to those used by train conductors to give out change; it was filled with quarters, and made a very effective fist load. She felt the sun at her back, and knew where she needed to be to get help.

The leader of the trio of be-winged, be-clawed intruders advanced on Mrs. Arborgast. "The Doctor...requires us...to deliver a message. If we cannot do this...in person, the person...of your cooling cor--"

Acting with the reflexes only intense Army training could give her, Anthony Stark's personal assistant roundhouse-punched the leader of the trio with her fist load. The man's sunglasses shattered and went flying across the room. She brought up the mace, intending to use it, and was stunned. The man's exposed eyes were no longer human, being slitted and without pupils. He screamed in what appeared to be pain and retreated away from the window.

For a moment, the other two winged men didn't know what to do. Bambi took that moment to run to the space where the receptionist's desk stood, completed and awaiting connection to the phone system. She rolled underneath it and searched for the white button Mr. Stark had had Scott Lang install before he moved to Phoenix.

It was there, unlabeled. But Bambi Arborgast knew what it was.

It was the Panic Button.

It would bring the only kind of help she needed.

"This meeting is only a courtesy, Doctor," Tony told the metal-encased dictator of Latveria.

Doom nodded. "You may continue to tell yourself that, Stark. Doom knows better. The news feeds we are beginning to receive from the States make it clear how unwanted your presence is there."

"Well, then," Tony replied as he sat up in his bed, slowly to prevent from accidentally ripping open any of the stitches along his spine. "They're going to have to learn that I'm not going anyone. No one's ever run me out of any place I belonged before, and I'm not going to give these reactionaries precedence this time."

"That is what I thought," Doctor Doom said with something that Tony thought was an approximation of a chuckle. "It is your...iron resolve that has earned you the respect of Doom."

"Thank you. I know how difficult that is to earn." In the back of his mind, Tony was aware of how surreal this conversation had become. "But my time is limited; I have my holdings to recover. Certainly you didn't ask for this meeting just to tell me you liked me?"

"No, Stark, I did not." Doom leaned forward in his throne. For a moment, Tony felt a chill go through him as he imagined that the Latverian monarch was staring right through the console into him. "Doom will not mince words. My beloved Latveria, the jewel of the Caparthian Mountains, has been thoroughly devastated by the Stark. There is much that needs to be rebuilt, much from the ground up. You are one of the few people Doom would trust to work with him to restore my land to its former glory."

"Will you come and help usher in Latveria's new Golden Age."

Brendan felt increasingly dizzy as he triggered the exhaust fans to sweep whatever the man with the pustules had launched at him away. Even though the plexiglass shields had dropped into place, turning the Iron Man armor into a sealed system, Brendan could feel the material clogging his throat and lungs.

As the cloud of reddish mist burned away, Brendan saw Wonder Man had closed ranks on the strange man and was punching him to little effect.

"Simon, fall back," Brendan called out. "Try to grab one of these other fellas hopping around.

"Careful," Simon said as he pulled away, "Punching this guy is like punching fresh Wonder Bread."

_That canna be good,_ Brendan thought as he fired a repulsor blast at the boil-covered criminal. The ray ripped away a large portion of the man's shoulder. With a smile, however, his opponent approached Iron Man, new pustules fruiting and budding to take the place of the destroyed material.

"The Doctor said you could not harm me," Brendan's opponent said.

"Sub-voc," Brendan whispered. Immediately, the HUD display reconfigured.

**Controls Switched to Sub-Vocalized Audio Command.** said a pleasant female voice in his ear. Brendan had heard that the voice pattern was modeled on a former employee of Stark's named Jocie Arborgast; he reminded himself to try and locate her one day to see if she was as sexy as her voice was. **What can we do for you, Mr. O'Doyle?**

"Activate magnetic intensifiers," Brendan whispered. At once, a silvery glow suffused his armor's gauntlets. He got down on one knee and dug his fingers into the pavement. He gritted his teeth and pulled, ripping up a portion of the concrete, including that piece that his enemy was standing on. Brendan activated his boot jets and flew up over the man, ready to fire once he stood back up. "Analyze foreign matter."

Bluish lights played over his face for a moment as he watched the pustule-encrusted man slowly get up. **Foreign matter is a fungal spore, origin unknown. Closest match for point of origin: Tibet.**

"Fungal, eh?" Brendan said to himself as he laid down a barrage of repulsor fire. A plan was forming in his head...something that would put an end to the situation immediately. He asked for information, which came to him in a matter of seconds.

"Connect me to Onstar," Brendan added between coughs, a smile forming on his face.

The winged men spoke in what Mrs. Arbogast assumed was Chinese or Japanese before a gout of flame skidded over the top of her desk. She crouched down lower; she wasn't a coward, but that didn't mean she wanted to be injured.

The sounds she had heard were pretty intimidating. One of the electricians had stepped forward to confront the winged intruders, boastful words on his lips; the sickening sound of bones breaking quieted him. The deep bass sound of their wings flapping made it clear that her safety was coming to an end. But Bambi Arborgast was not going to bend. She was a fighter, and would go down throwing punches.

But then a the window behind her was pierced by a bright red beam of light. Bambi turned away, avoiding having her corneas burned at the last moment. The beam moved in a circle, cutting away at the tinted safety glass. She moved as deep into the desk's legwell as she could to avoid the shards of glass that flew across the room when the pane fell to the floor.

The voice that interrupted the scene was electronically modulated, but had a power and force that was undeniable.

"This office is under the protection of Stark Solutions, which means it's under _my_ protection."

Twin repulsors flashed overhead. Mrs. Arborgast crawled out from underneath her hiding place and glanced over the top of the desk. Two of the flying men were slowly sinking to the floor, insensate. A red and gold blur speed over her head, connecting with the leader roughly.

"Sucks to be you," Iron Man told his foes.

Tony deeply considered his reply to Doom's proposal. The man on the telescreen before him was a formidable personage, no matter what others thought of his practices. There was no way he would ally himself with the Latverian dictator, but to be seen by callous or contemptuous...well, that would only incur Doctor Doom's wrath. And the last thing Tony needed was _another_ enemy.

"I am flattered," he eventually said in measured, even tones, "to be so invited. I have already authorized the Maria Stark Foundation to release a generous bequest to the Latverian Treasury to help fund--"

Doom's gauntleted fist slammed down on the throne so hard that the arm splintered. "Do _not_ patronize me, Stark. Doom does not have need of mere money. He has need of your knowledge, of your talent for innovation."

"If that's the case, Your Majesty," Tony replied. "Then I must decline. As much as my sympathies are with your nation--as well as my gratitude to you for what you did to help repel the Stark Invasion--I cannot in good conscience give you what you seek. Even if what you need is legitimate, the perceptions...well, it is not something I can afford right now."

"You are worried about the opinions of your lessers?" Doom leaned back. "Your status in their eyes could not get any lower. At least by working with Doom, you will be afforded...protection."

Tony paused before replying. "Protection?"

The way the lights played on Doom's immobile face made it seem like he was smiling. "Doom knows of what has been going on in the world, Stark. There are people in this world who want your intelligence, but who will not be as polite as to ask. Come here, and the whole of Latveria will not only exalt you as a hero, but will keep you safe."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Doctor. Iron Man has always been protection enough for myself and my employees."

"I am positive that gives you comfort at night, Stark," Doom said. He sighed, and for a moment, Tony could see how weary the man was. "I consider my offer declined. You may consider it withdrawn. Do not come seeking Doom when your already fragile empire is torn apart by the Asian."

"Asian? What Asian?" Tony tried to move forward, but a shooting pain in his back drove him down to the bed.

"This audience is at an end, Stark. May you remain alive long enough to realize the mistake you've made."

"Doom--what Asian?"

The receiver grew dark.

"Hope you guys speak English, 'cause if you don't, I won't have any fun interrogating you."

Simon Williams put the final twist in the steel girder presently wrapped around two of the black clad thieves. It felt good to use his strength in such a straightforward way, especially in light of the recent revelations about his origins. The other three members of this band were similarly restrained off to one side.

That left only the guy Simon had silently started referring to as Acne Man. He dusted off his hands and turned around, preparing to lend Brendan O'Doyle a hand in putting the ugly mofo down.

Simon knew that Hank and the others had some doubts about letting O'Doyle, a former mercenary who had a brief, effective career as the super-villainous MAULER, join the West Coast Avengers. So far, the Irishman seemed pretty okay. He was very straightforward with 

his teammates, he was the first to pitch in when someone else needed a hand, he was funny and clever and...

...retreating from the scene without a word.

"Hey, O'Doyle! " Simon shouted to the retreating form. "Get your butt back here!"

Acne-Man laughed, a skittering unnerving noise that sounded like the man was gargling with spaghetti sauce. "Your comrade...had the correct idea. It is best...that you flee."

"I'm the strong guy," Simon shot back. "I'm too dumb to flee."

Some of the pustules that covered Acne-Man opened up. Thick, yellowish-green fluid shot out, covering Simon's face, chest and hands. "Then you are not smart enough...to live."

Bambi Arborgast poked her head up above the desk long enough to shout, "Iron Man--these guys are photosensitive!"

"They're touchy about snapshots?" the Golden Avenger asked in return. He barely ducked in time to avoid a stream of fire that emerged from the throat of the group's leader. Bambi dove for her cover. Already, the other two monster men were stirring.

"No!" Bambi called out. "They can't stand bright light."

"Is that so?" Iron Man delivered a roundhouse right that snapped the leader's head back. The man-beast swiped at the Golden Avenger with one long-clawed hand, an act that generated a shower of sparks. "I'm sure that's good to know."

One of the other men shook the cobwebs out of his head and flew toward Iron Man. The air before his face seemed to waver, and a long stream of fire emerged from his mouth, skittering over the hero's right arm. Iron Man grabbed his present opponent by the throat and tossed him aside before facing the latest threat. He raised one gauntleted hand. The cuff assembly spun rapidly then clicked into place. "Comon', Puff...show me that trick again."

Once more, the rapidly approaching second intruder opened his mouth. The air before him wavered--

And Iron Man chose that moment to fire a freon pellet down the man's throat. His wings flapped wildly as he coughed and sputtered. In a matter of seconds, frost appeared on the man's lips and tongue, and he fell to his knees in pain and fear.

Iron Man paused, then said to no one in the area. "Yeah, well, I figured I should stick with what I know."

The leader of the winged men came up behind the Golden Avenger. Iron Man spun, repulsors flashing, but the opponent threw up one wing, apparently blocking the beam's impact. Before he could react any further, the leader continued turning in place, extending his wingspan further and knocking Iron Man off his feet.

"I know, I know," Iron Man seemed to say to no one, "Rookie mistake." The leader leapt up in the air, talons extended. The armored hero waited until his opponent was directly in front of him before hitting him with a double blast of his pulse bolts. The winged enemy's inhuman eyes widened in shock as he found himself driven hard into the ceiling. Plaster fell to the floor as Iron Man rolled out of the way, coming up with a wide dispersal repulsor blast to slam the remaining two enemies left standing.

The Golden Avenger slowly got up from his crouch, waiting for any further movement from his enemies. Only when it looked as if they were very, very still--and were not planning on being anything but for a long time--did he say, "Contact the cops and security to get these guys out of here, Clay. I'll let Mr. Stark know ASAP."

After brushing the dust and debris from his shoulder, Iron Man looked at Bambi Arborgast. "So how'd I do?"

Mrs. Arborgast refused to flinch as she was reminded of a different kind of armored being, the Stark Patriarch called Laserface, snapping the neck of Mr. Stark's girlfriend, Karyn Celeste. She shrugged. "I've seen better. Go bother the Hulk or something. We have to clean up."

Bethany Cabe checked the address again before looking up at the modest, faded awning. This was the place Lindsey and their operatives had claimed to have found Happy Hogan--and if Lindsey MacPherson said it was the place, then it was _the place_.

She gathered her ankle-length coat around her neck and stepped in. The smell that hit her was strong, acrid--it reminded her, irrationally, of how her ex-husband Alexander smelled after she and Tony had released him from an Eastern bloc prison. If she concentrated, she could pick out the same mix of unwashed flesh, vomit, bodily waste and sweat borne of desperation. Taking in the large space--obviously a gymnasium, although Beth doubted the facility had been used for sports for a long, long time, she feared that one of Tony's closest friends had fallen on the hardest of times. She began to scan the cots that lined the area, looking for some glimmer of Happy's face in the human wreckage lying there.

"Beth?"

Bethany looked up. Towards the back was Happy Hogan, still looking like he just went three rounds, but with the sort of soulful eyes that gave his battered face a craggy handsomeness. He put down the tray of soup he had in his hands next the cot of a homeless man with both of his hands bandaged. She smiled in spite of herself.

"Hey, Happy. You're looking...fit."

"Hey, well...you know, after the Invasion..." Happy trailed off, before adding, his words tumbling out in a torrent, "If we don't care for them, who's gonna?"

Beth nodded. She wondered briefly if she was right in coming here. But thinking of Tony, of how he was suffering physically and personally...

"You have a moment, Hap? I need to talk to you."

"Jeez, Beth, you know I'd love to," Happy said, "but I got a lot to do here. It's just me right now. The Father...well, he was murdered by those creeps, and until the diocese can appoint a new pastor..." He shrugged.

Beth felt her stomach lurch. She felt even more like a bad person for evoking what she had to. The presence of all the men around her, all broken before the Invasion and now even closer to the abyss, made that feeling worse. "It's about Tony."

Happy stood stock still for a second. She could imagine what was going through his head at the moment, and tried not to think of the words he was using to silently curse her out. He looked at the man in the cot before glancing up at her. "I gotta feed Ralph first--his hands got blown off by those bastards--and then I'll call to see if one of the volunteers can come in. You're only gonna get a few minutes, alright?"

Beth nodded silently. "If you need a hand--"

"No." Happy raised his hand. "I'll meet you at the coffee shop across the street. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Simon was already beginning to change his mind about this new Iron Man. The way Hank had explained it, he was supposed to be helping the West Coast Avengers, wasn't he?

Then why had he abandoned him, leaving him to trade endless blows with Acne-Man in a pointless spectacle. The guy was actually laughing at him--even when a blow hit hard enough to displace some of the soft, disgustingly mushy growths that covered him, more buds sprouted to reconstruct the missing area.

"You...may not...succumb...to me...but you will...weaken," he said in that maddeningly sing-song way of his.

"Awwww, that's what you think," Simon said, giving him an uppercut that would drive a normal man into Nevada; it just scattered half of the man's face to parts north. Quickly, the restoration process has begun, with Acne-Man's nose already beginning to reform.

If this continued, Simon reasoned, he'd be here forever.

Luckily, from above, someone said, "Simon! Get clear!"

Simon looked up to see Brendan returning, holding a large metal drum above his head. The man was closing distance at an alarming rate. "Where the Hell have you been?"

"Do not...ignore me, _gueilo_" Acne-Man said, smashing Simon in the face. Simon countered by punching his enemy in his stomach--and feeling the too-soft body of the creature sucking his fist deeper inside.

"Awwww, _Man_!" Simon exclaimed. "Whatever you've got in mind, Brendan, let fly...I can't be hurt."

"Are you sure?" Brendan asked. "This is toxic stuff."

"JUST DO IT!"

Brendan swept in and slammed the drum down hard on Acne-Man. The man exploded into a riot of small particles, and for a moment, Simon saw his opponent begin to reform...

Until the contents of the drum began to seep out. The fumes were terrible, causing Simon to step back. The newly reformed eyes of Acne-Man opened wide in fear just long enough for his entire body to disintegrate into a liquid mess. Simon watched the process and thanked God he was now a being of ionic energy; if he had a normal human body, he'd most likely vomit.

"What was that?" he asked as Brendan flew down to his side.

"A fungicide. I was able t' pick it up at a chemical supply warehouse a few miles along the highway. Charged it t' Mr. Stark, don't worry." Brendan replied. "Our playmate was a giant mushroom. I figured that'd be the fastest way to deal with him." He bent down and fished something from the mess of poison and melted Acne-Man.

"Ummm, are you sure that's all he was?" Simon asked carefully. " I mean, if he was even _part_ human, you'd be--"

"What, you doubtin' Mr. Stark's faith in me?" Brendan asked. Before Simon could answer, the present West Coast Avenger Iron Man fished what appeared to be a necklace out of the toxic soup. "Now t'ain't that a fine mess. Seems we were meant to send the wee fella t' his just rewards?"

"What do you mean?" Simon asked.

Brendan stood up, dangling the necklace before him. "There's a message for Mr. Stark on this sparkly."

Simon studied the pictographs. "In Chinese?"

"Not quite," Brendan said, the voice modulator in his helmet incapable of hiding the amusement in his voice. "_Mandarin_ Chinese."


	33. Trick Of The Devil

Iron Man

Chapter 33: Trick Of The Devil

Victor Von Doom stood at the window of the Latverian Embassy building and brooded.

He should not be in New York, addressing the UN in an effort to petition for aid so that his beloved country could be rebuilt. He needed to be with his people, walking amongst them to let them know that Latveria would rise again. But the vagracies of diplomacy demanded his appearance here, so that he could walk through the happy Latveria that presently only remained in his memory..

Doom never understood the constant stream of rebels who sought to de-throne him. If they saw him now, preparing to debase himself so that his people could have the bare minimum of resources required to maintain their dignity, they would realize how much he loved his country.

Outside his window, Doom saw the landscape of the post-Invasion New York, a place that was struggling to mend the spots of pitted and broken pavement, that tried its best not to dwell on the scaffolds that had to be erected around many of its buildings to prevent them from collapsing. He had received word that a wing of Grand Central had to be imploded the week before, lest the erosion actually threatened the skyscraper that sat atop the nerve center of the city's transit system. Everyone was suffering...just not as much as Doom felt his people were.

The slam of the door prompted Doom to look away. Hobbling toward him was Anthony Stark. He was dressed in a classically cut three-button suit, as was befitting a man of his station. The cane he leaned on was of the finest ebony wood. Behind the industrialist, his lackey (Doom briefly ruminated on the man's name...it was Rhodes or something) was interfering with the two guards dressed in the formal uniform of Latveria's police force, endeavoring with some success to create distance between them and his employer.

"Your Majesty--they refused to wait to be announced! They pushed past us with contempt!" cried out one of the guards. Doom thought his name was Heinrich; he made a note to send a medal to his soon-to-be-widow.

Doom raised a courtly hand. "That is obvious from their presence. Stand down; Doom has nothing to fear from Anthony Stark."

"That's what you think," Stark replied, his words terse. "You thought you were clever, pretending to be civil, didn't you?"

Behind his mask, Doom's eyes narrowed. "Choose your words wisely, Stark," he said, his tone as inexpressive as the mask he wore. "As I have said in the past, all of Latveria respects you; do not give me reason to rescind such respect."

Stark met his gaze. His eyes were flashing with an anger that was at odds with the level tone of his voice. Doom wondered if this was sincere emotion, or an overreaction to the pain the industrialist was obviously feeling. "Four days ago, as you and I had our teleconference, the temporary headquarters of my company was attacked. A second company that I was in the 

process of purchasing was also attacked. Both group of assailants made references to 'The Doctor.' Are you telling me, Von Doom, that this is all coincidence?"

"I will admit to the unlikliness of such a situation," Doom conceded. "But in this case, coincidence is all it is. There are other doctors in this world, after all."

Doom saw Stark tense up for a moment before slamming his cane down on the floor. "You may have tried to hide behind all those trappings to make me think it was the Mandarin, but who else would stand to benefit?"

Doom paused. He turned away from the obviously distraught Stark and focused once more on the badly damaged, but still vital, New York street outside. "Has it occured to you, Stark, that if I wished you ruined, I would not hide behind false masks? You and your fellows may paint Doom with many brushes but one thing he is not is a coward who uses lesser persons to tremble behind."

"But--"

"This has gone on long enough," Doom said through gritted teeth. He struggled to keep his own anger in check; the fact was that Stark was one of the few people in the United States who willingly donated money to the rebuilding of Latveria, and for that he earned a degree of forgiveness. But if it were not for that...

"Look about you," the monarch of Latveria continued, his hands folded behind his back. "Where once my robotic drones would protect me, I must rely on mere flesh and blood. I am here to request...to _ask_, Mr. Stark...for aid to help my country climb out of the smoking crater those misbegotten aliens turned their home into. See sense in what I say, Stark. I. Do not. Have Time. For Games."

There was silence in the room. Finally, the industrialist muttered, "If I was mistaken...I apologize."

"In consideration for what you have done for the people of Latveria, and for what I still hope you will do, Doom accepts your apology." He looked over his shoulder to glare at Stark. "But keep in mind that, were my country not so in need of help, I would have had my usual coterie of robotic soldiers. And for the impertenence you showed me today, I would have had you destroyed."

Stark nodded. "Thank you, Doctor. I..I won't bother you anymore."

"See that you do not," Doom replied.

_Until I am ready to revenge this slight,_ the King of Latveria added silently to himself.

Bethany Cabe waited in the Starbucks across from the shelter Happy had been managing, watching her tall latte with extra foam grow cold. She wondered again how a city as small as this one could support so many Starbucks--surely _somebody_ out there preferred tea, or hot chocolate...or maybe even plain water.

This was the fourth day of what she'd come to call The Dance. Every afternoon since she had found him, she had entered the delapidated rectory--the actual chapel having been destroyed by the Stark during what some people were calling the Seven Day World War--and tried to persuade Happy to talk to her. And for three days running, he told her to go into the coffee shop to wait for him. If everything was going according to The Dance, sometime in the next two hours one of Happy's charges--an older man with a beard and intense eyes Happy called 'Strange'--would come over and tell her Happy was too busy.

Which of course made Bethany feel more like a jerk than she deserved to feel.

She knew that Happy was really, truly needed here, tending to those who wouldn't be tended to otherwise. She had suspected that he had been feeling more and more inadequate with the addition of so many people to Tony's staff in preperation for the bid to take back Stark/Fujikawa, and she _knew_ he was uncomfortable around his ex-wife and Scott Lang. He seemed a little beleagured, but content here, and it seemed cruel to take him away...

But Tony needed to see him, needed to see all of them, if what Rhodey was planning to do was to work.

Bethany stared at the steam rising from her latte and wondered if Tony was worth all these problems.

Before she could answer, she heard Happy say, "I'm sorry for keeping you coming here, Ms. Cabe."

Beth looked up and forced a wistful smile. "Don't mention it. I was thinking I needed more caffiene in my diet. Come on, sit."

"No, I can't," Happy said. He buried his hands in his pocket. "I left Strange keeping an eye on things. Jeanette--she's one of the deacons, well she was when the Pastor was still alive--is supposed to show up any minute, but with the trains and all messed up--"

"You don't want to keep Strange alone for long," Beth finished. She took a healthy swig of her latte. "I can't say I blame you for wanting to get back quickly, then. There's something not right about that boy."

"Yeah," Happy said. He looked around, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I just wanted to tell you that whatever it is you're trying to get me for, I can't. These guys...they need me, and I ain't abandoning you."

"But Tony needs you as well," Beth countered, hating herself the moment the words escaped her lips.

"Nyah, he doesn't," Happy said. "He got Rhodey, and Jocie, and Pep, and...he got you back...and that Celeste girl. He's got enough back-up."

Bethany looked down into her cup. "Karyn's dead. She was the first person killed by the Stark."

"Oh." A stricken look came over his face. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"And if this is about Pepper and Scott Lang, they broke up. After the Invasion, he moved to Pheonix. Said something about Arizona being a safer place to raise his daughter."

"It's not about Pep," Happy replied. He leaned forward, his hands resting on the table. "Look, Ms. Cabe, all I am is a washed-up pug who cares about people. You--you're a big-shot bodyguard, and Rhodey--he, like, one of the best copter pilots I ever seen. Mrs. Arborgast, Pep, Jack...they all got stuff they can do to watch Tony's back. I got nothin'. He needs you guys more than me, 'specially now that everyone's calling for his head and all. He needs friends that can watch his back, not just stand there and go 'good for you, boss.'"

Bethany sighed. She finished her drink and stood up. "Happy, if you don't think you've watched Tony's back all these years, then you haven't been paying attention."

"Ms. Cabe, I'd do anything for Tony," Happy said after a moment. "But right now, he don't need me in the way."

Bethany fished a card out of her purse. She handed it to Happy. "Please, at least think about it. We need you."

He looked at the card before tucking it into his shirt pocket. "I will, but I don't think it'll help much."

"You don't know the half of it, Happy. Have a good day."

Clay Wilson, who at one time called himself Force, sat in the high-tech chamber Tony Stark had dubbed The Docket and observed his pupil at work. For the ninth time that day he reminded himself he could have been the one flying over the lush forest of Olympic National Park.

He reminded himself that he had wanted to stay clear of anything armored; after the close shave he experienced while helping Tony defeat Ultimo years ago, Clay decided he had had his fill. But maybe, he thought to himself as he sat in the deeply padded seat and swivelled in place to check Donnie Gill's vital signs, he shouldn't have agreed to come back to help train the new Iron Man either.

"Comon," Clay said to himself. "You know you owe Tony."

"What?" Donnie Gill's electronically distorted voice came through his headset clear as glass. Clay flipped a toggle that prompted one monitor to switch to the view from Donnie's helmet. Miles of lush greenery stretched out before the kid, a light rain muting the colors.

"Nothing, kid. Just talking to myself," Clay replied. He tapped on his keyboard and called up the infra-red overlay. "I want you to switch to heat vision for fifteen seconds, then to night vision for fifteen."

"But it's daylight--won't night vision be useless?"

"Not neccesarily. The rain is heavy enough that it's diffusing the sunlight." Clay leaned over to check a reading. "The conditions out there are analogous to the beginning of sunset."

"Okay," Gill said. Clay swung his chair around and did a quick scan of the readings coming in from the armor's sophisticated sensor array. Five keystrokes magnified the scenes. He was in the process of placing a thermal print overlay on the landscape when Gill said, "Hey, I think I got it."

"Show me."

"Switching to infrared, magnified X100." The main screen lit up with a portion of mountainside. A heat pattern overlay quickly swept over the image, followed by a series of increasingly larger close-ups. Clay adjusted his glasses and leaned in to study the last magnification more carefully.

There was a heat signal in a small crevass formed by the base of two peaks. It was small, which meant it was probably easily overlooked by conventional surviellance tech. But to the two men who jointly controlled one of the most sophisticated weapons systems on Earth, it shone like a beacon. Clay couldn't resist smiling slightly. "Give me a sonic pick-up, Donnie. What's buried there is still warm, I just--"

"Wanna make sure it's breathing, got it." A grid of green lines popped up on the screen to Clay's left. His eyes focused on it as it began taking in and processing the ambient sound of the area surrounding Donnie. He began dropping out recognizable sounds. "Increasing the sensitivity."

"Gotcha." With each keystroke, another noise was buffered out of the digital read. Clay's other hand manipulated the volume control, increasing it while he continued buffering out other sounds.

The smile grew into an ear-to-ear grin as Clay recognized the distinctive _thump-thummp-thump_ of a human heart. "We have him!"

Over the speakers, Donnie let out a rebel yell of joy. "I'm going in."

"Be careful," Clay warned. "We don't know what sort of preperations Gaston made when he buried the kid. It could be booby-trapped."

"Don't worry, buddy," Donnie told his mentor as the viewscreen showed him zeroing in on the area the two of them had pinpointed. "I'll ultrasound the area quickly."

"Good. I'm going to contact the State Troopers and the FBI to let them know," Clay said, already thumbing open the cellular keypad built into his right armrest. "Not to mention the nearest hospital to get some EMTs to your location."

"I can't believe he's alive," Donnie said in an undertone.

"Don't worry about it," Clay assured him. "We're saving a life, and I really hope they let you come in and tell that scumbag personally. No one snatches a kid on Iron Man's watch."

James Rhodes watched Tony looking out the window of their limosuine. His best friend was betraying no emotion as they drove towards Laguardia, where a private jet was waiting to take them home. He had said nothing since they left the Latverian Embassy, and Rhodey couldn't help wondering if this was behavior indicative of another bad time ahead. Even hearing the news that Donnie had located a little boy who had been abducted back in Seattle didn't seem to phase him one way or the other.

Finally, the silence was unbearable.

"Yo, Tones," James said. Tony looked away from the window and glanced at him, the same neutral expression on his face. "Something bothering you?"

Tony returned his attention to the window. The limo had hit the Queensborough Bridge, and the inevitable stopping of traffic to a crawl allowed them a beautiful view of the East River. "This is going to be tougher than I thought."

James glanced out the window. The sunlight sparkled off the river's waters, now a reasonable facsimilie of blue after much rehabilitation and conservation. "If anyone can do this, it's you, Tones. We all believe that."

"I don't."

Rhodey took a moment to watch his best friend and boss. He had lost weight during his convalescence--a fact that was concealed from the general public from the bulk of the magnetic vest he now wore to keep the techno-virus that killed the Stark at bay. He leaned on his cane heavily, as if needing it to prop his body up. "Look, Tones, I know it's gonna be tough, but you're not doing it alone. I'm here, and Beth...and if Donnie keeps scoring major coups like finding that kids, people are going to accept him as the new Iron Man in no time."

Tony looked away from the window. "Do you really think Donnie Gill is a permanent replacement?"

Rhodey felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. "I know you said it was temporary, but we all hoped--"

"You hoped wrong. As soon as I'm able, I'm going to redesign the armor, and I'm returning to the front lines."

Sanjiv Khatam was still a young boy. He had started school a few months ago, and still had trouble expressing himself verbally. The children in his school still scared him, even though most of them were nice. He loved his mother and father, and the thought of them--most likely worried sick--made him want to cry again, if there were any more tears he could spare.

On some level, Sanjiv knew he was going to die in the box the Bad Man put him in.

He had very little conception of what dying meant, except that it was a Very Bad Thing. But he was feeling sleepier and sleepier, like the stale air in the box was growing as thick as his mom's rice pudding. The hunger pangs he felt for so long had muted now, and his mouth was dry and cracked. His body still ached from being stuck in the box and having no place to move. The pool of his own pee had long since evaporated, and the discomfort of being trapped in his own bodily emissions had long ceased to bother him.

As he struggled to squeeze a tear for his parents out of his parched, rubbed red eyes, Sanjiv heard something like digging outside. For a moment, his little heart speeded up, as the fear of The Bad Man coming back to hurt him some more came alive in his head. He whimpered hoarsely.

"Sanjiv," a funny voice from outside said. It sounded like one of the robots he saw on television. "I'm going to free you, okay?"

It was as the top of the box peeled away that Sanjiv remenbered what the robots he saw on television had done. And that caused his heart to beat even faster.

"Your parents are here," the funny voice continued, "and some doctors to make sure you're okay."

There was a screeching noise that made Sanjiv flinch as the top of the box finally came away. Sanjiv blinked as daylight fell on his face for the first time in what seemed like forever. In the background, he could hear his daddy and mommy weeping in a way that Sanjiv knew meant they were happy.

And then the robot came into view, a figure in red and gold with a head like a skull. Sanjiv's head was filled with all the news shows he saw during the Invasion--news shows that showed the robots killing and hurting men and women while asking them about God.

Sanjiv screamed.

"You can't be serious!" Rhodey said, struggling to keep his emotions in check.

"I'm very serious," Tony replied. "Iron Man is needed to protect Stark International's interests, and to provide service for the better goo--"

"Bull, Tony," Rhodey countered. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but that's bull. You're just jonesing to put on your little metal coccoon again."

Tony stared at his friend. "And what if I am? I'm not hurting anyone."

"Cheez, Tones...you're hurting _yourself_. How many times this thing gotta bite you on the butt and nearly kill you before you figure out it's bad for you?"

Rhodey could see how Tony's grip on the cane had tightened so much that his knuckles had whitened. "I know what I'm doing."

"I don't think so," Rhodey shot back hotly. "You nearly _died_ because of that last tin can you came up with."

"There was design flaws in the Living Iron Armor. Once we get back to Seattle, I can get back together with Scott and we can--"

Rhodey leaned over and grabbed his friend's wrist. "Listen to you. You're freaking addicted to that thing."

"I know I'm an alcoholic--"

"You're an _addict_. If it's not about alcohol, it's about tooling around in that garbage heap."

Tony looked down at Rhodey's hand. "Please. Let. Me. Go."

Rhodey complied and sat back in his seat. "Fine." His voice softened. "But, Tones, listen...Wilson's got Gill working out pretty well. The Avengers say Brendan's working out. There's no need for you to get back in the suit."

Tony turned his attention back to the window. Rhodey waited for some response. Only when he was sure there was none coming did he close his eyes and tried to rest.

In the early morning hours, in a hotel room that had seen better days and more thorough cleaning, a woman handed out gifts to her three compatriots. Everything had gone as their master, the Great and Powerful Doctor, had told them. No one at Sea-Tac had questioned their possession of the gifts; once they saw the papers the Doctor's slave had prepared allowing for the transport of antiquities between countries, they practically gave them an escort.

The woman looked at the three men who had accompanied her from the Doctor's village to here. "Do not don these until we are at the site. We are messengers, nothing more; being caught before the message is delivered is unacceptable."

The three men nodded, and slipped their gifts underneath their coats. They stood at attention and waited for the woman to put away the steel case and shrug on her own coat. They didn't dare question or talk freely to the woman. She was The Doctor's appointed agent on this mission, and to question her would be to question him...and to question him would lead to death.

When she was ready, the woman opened the door. "Let us proceed to Omnus, and begin the Doctor's work."

Suzanne Tsuyama gestured to the clippings she had spread out on her desk. Her hazel eyes seemed to sparkle in the soft overhead lighting. "The good news is everyone focused on your rescue of Khatam, and no one focused on how he reacted when he saw you. Iron Man, and by extension Stark Solutions, gained major brownie points here."

Donnie Gill shook his head. "I dunno, Ms. Tsuyama. It felt awful having that kid screaming like I was gonna murder him. If I wanted that sort of reaction, I would have stayed Blizzard."

Suzanne smiled. "Don't worry about that reaction, Donald. That's my job."

Pepper Potts, who was acting as Tony's proxy while he was busy getting up to speed, patted Donnie on the arm. "It's okay. We knew Tony and Iron Man weren't going to be the most popular people on the planet right now. But you and Clay did _great_ work, and I know Mr. and Mrs. Khatam will remember you as a hero as long as they live."

"And trust me, Donald," Suzanne added. "As Tony's new publicist, getting Iron Man's image all nice and shiny again is a primary concern. You and Clay keep doing things like this and the public will be wanting Iron Man to run for Mayor."

"I-I'm not all that into politics," Donnie stammered.

"And the mayor is? Don't worry about it."

"Yeah," Pepper said. "Suzie's the best. She'll smooth over all the rough edges."

"Ms. Potts," Donnie replied. "I'm a street kid. I'm _all_ rough edges."

"So we'll have to skew you more Johnny Depp than Brad Pitt," Suzanne shot back with a chuckle. "Stop worrying and get out of my office. You're going to be late for the big meeting Tony didn't want me at."

As Pepper rose, she said, "You almost sound jealous you're being excluded, Suzie."

"_Almost?_" Suzanne said, her mouth widening into a Cheshire-Cat-grin. "Now scat. Just keep yourself available for interviews, Donald. We're going to milk this."

"So other than his being called the Doctor," Tony Stark asked the assembled people in his board room, "What do we know about the man behind these attacks?"

Brendan Doyle leaned back and dangled the amulet he recovered from the site of the previous week's battle. "He's either Chinese, or has an affinity for the area...and he either doesn't like you, or likes you too much."

"And that he's not Doctor Doom," James Rhodes muttered under his breath.

"What does that thing say?" Bethany asked.

"Roughly translated from th' Mandarin, 'All That Is Yours Is Mine,'" Brendan answered.

"I didn't know you were fluent in Mandarin," Pepper Potts said with a hint of admiration in her voice.

"Ye didn't ask," Brendan replied, dropping the amulet to the table. "If ye're asking me, Mr. Stark, I would be thinking the answer t' yer question is obvious."

Tony shook his head. "That's impossible. The Mandarin is dead. All of the West Coast Avengers were witness to it."

"And this is, like, what--the fourth time he's died?" Rhodey asked sarcastically.

"And it's not like you don't have a history of antagonizing villians of an Asian persuasion," Pepper added. "The Mandarin, the Yellow Claw..."

"But it can't be the Mandarin," Tony insisted. "I...I would know."

"How?" Donnie Gill asked, genuinely puzzled.

"When you've been to the brink of death and back with someone, when you stare them in the eye for years...you just know."

"Well, mystical sense aside," Clay Wilson said, "How do we find out who it is who's actually throwing us this beating?"

The phone rang, interrupting the conversation. Tony picked it up. "Mrs. A, I thought I was clear in asking not to be disturbed."

"So we're up against, what, some sort of chop socky bad guy?" Donnie asked.

"You know," Bethany replied, her eyes narrowing slightly. "My partner would take exception to that 'chop socky' reference."

As Tony continued talking to his personal assistant in hushed tones, he reached for the remote and turned on the television recessed into the wall. The picture that came up caused the people gather in the board room to stop talking.

There was a site that was familiar to those who had been with Tony prior to the Stark Invasion: the bland, unassuming main offices of Satsujin Moomji's old company, Omnus Technologies. Smoke was billowing from it, large cracks appearing in its facade, portions of its outer walls crumbling to the ground. A graphic in the upper righthand corner advised the viewers that this was going out live, and that the three creatures out of nightmares that were causing the destruction were very, very real.

The massive being with the slate grey skin and a face like an avian pitbull pounded the ground, causing another section of wall to disintigrate into rubble. Another figure, this one seemingly made entirely of a bluish liquid, seemed to direct the water lines below to shatter, creating geysers that obscured vision. And the third, his skin yellowish and tightly stretched over massive muscles, golden armor gleaming in the sun, blasted the openings with a heat ray that caused little explosions inside. One of his hands was shaped into a pick axe; the other into a hammer.

James Rhodes stood up from his seat. Bad memories of the last two times he met these creatures played in his head. "But that's..."

"Q'Wake, Deluge and Foundry. Three of the Avatars of the Mandarin," Tony whispered as he put down the phone.

Donnie and Clay stood up. "We'll be there in minutes," Clay assured his employer.

Brendan smirked. "Now what were you sayin' about it not possibly bein' th' Mandarin?"


	34. These Enemy Hands

Iron Man

Chapter 34: These Enemy Hands

The Avatars had very specific instructions from The Doctor, and even though they were instructed to make it seem more...senseless, their minds were focused on the task at hand. The Doctor had made certain modifications to each of the masks that empowered them that made them more suited for the task, and Deluge and Old Woman were using those abilities to the fullest.

Foundry and Q'wake were just fomenting destruction--but that was one of their two tasks. The other task came to the fore when Iron Man arrived.

Upon seeing the golden and crimson warrior, Foundry raised his head and let loose with a beam of blistering heat from his singular eyeslit. Iron Man twisted to avoid the orange beam, but was still hit on the shoulder. Immediately, the metallic shell of the glowed white hot, causing the hero to yelp in surprise.

"The Doctor sends you his best wishes, Iron Man," Foundry intoned. His hands morphed into massive baling hooks. The armored Avatar drove the hook into the side of the nearest wall and began to climb the crack-filled building to close distance.

"Couldn't he have just sent a card?" the Armored Avenger shot back, barely avoiding a large piece of masonry thrown by Q'Wake. The hero twisted at the waist and shot his repulsors, reducing the slab of stone to dust to prevent it from harming anyone else. Foundry opened up his visor again, letting loose with another blast of heat. This time, Iron Man was ready, veering quickly to the right before he was struck. The cuffs of his gauntlets spun as he circled quickly and closed distance from behind the golden-armored monstrosity. Below, he could hear Q'Wake laugh, a noise that sounded like two slabs of granite being pounded together.

With a soft _pok_, Iron Man expelled a freon capsule. The tiny white ball hit Foundry, and the creature's form was rapidly covered by a shell of slushy snow.

Iron Man flew past the roof of Omnus and fired an array of pulse bolts at the feet of Q'Wake. The stone-faced monstrosity continued laughing, even as the ground beneath him shattered and fell to the floor.

The Armored Avenger soon understood why Q'Wake was so amused when Foundry's beam hit him full in the back. Iron Man turned to see the armored creature, his hands morphing into lances, run toward him, the icy prison melted by his immense inner heat.

"I know, I know, but for the longest time that's what I did," he mumbled to himself as he worked the chin toggle to bring the rail gun on line. Engaging the targeting computer, he prepared to shatter Foundry's lances when a spout of water broke through the walls of the Omnus building and engulfed him, buffeting Donnie about like he was a toy boat. Before he could activate the gyros, the water spout seemed to twist and turn in the air, delivering the Golden Avenger into the side of a nearby building.

Roaring with laughter, Q'Wake ran at full speed into Iron Man, driving the armored hero straight through the damaged wall. The creature began pummeling Donnie before he hit the 

ground, each impact sending shock waves up and down his spine. It was getting hard for him to think, until he touched his fingers to the bottom of his palm, where a hidden switch activated his boot jets. He slid out from under Q'Wake and through the thin walls of the far side of the room. Q'Wake followed, with Foundry close behind.

As Donnie twisted, trying to ignore the debris from the cubicle walls he was destroying as he continued pulling away from the Avatars, he asked his mentor one question.

"Shouldn't the other Iron Man be helping out?"

"Shouldn't you be helping Gill out?"

Bredan O'Doyle spun around in his chair and put down the newspaper he was perusing to face James Rhodes. "Why Jimmy, I'm not recallin' that that's part of what your boss hired me for."

Rhodey stood in front of a man who was once a friend, who had saved his life during the time when both were mercenaries. He found his fingers curling and uncurling into fists. "You were hired to be Iron Man--"

"I was hired t' be _The Avengers'_ Iron Man," Brendan corrected him with a slight, knowing smile. "And I'm a sight at doin' that, believe me. But nowhere in my contract with Mr. Stark does it say I have t' be babysitting young Mr. Gill."

Rhodes shook his head. "I thought you had changed, O'Doyle."

Don't you be worryin' now, Jimmy. I have changed." Brendan made a show of rising from his seat and gathering the newspaper together. "I find myself realizin' that I'm _good_ at playin' the hero. But I'm a mercenary at heart. I can't be changin' that, or I'd be dead--and most likely lettin' my fellow Avengers down. Can't have that, bow can we?"

"He's going to be slaughtered out there." Rhodey slowly shifted his body from foot to foot. He was all to aware that he was keeping himself physically busy to avoid doing something to hurt his one-time ally.

"Wilson's a good man, and Gill's a good boy--they're not going t' be slaughtered."

"You don't know what fighting the Avatars are like," Rhodey countered.

"An' I'm not plannin' on knowin'." Brendan stepped up to Rhodey and locked eyes with him. "My contract spells it out clearly. I'm t' assist the West Coast branch of the Avengers in any way I can. I am t' assist Mr. Stark when he requests it. Nowhere does it say I have t' save the child's wee asss, nor does it say I have t' follow your orders. So unless you have Mr. Stark's permission to boss me around, I'll be on me way."

Rhodey stared hard at Brendan. For a moment, a number of things passed through his head, things he wanted to say to the mercenary who once wielded the Mauler armor. Brendan smiled faintly, tilted his head to the side, as if urging him on.

"I'm not going to be goaded into this," James Rhodes said through gritted teeth before stepping aside.

"I'll be keepin' that in mind, Jimmy," Brendan replied as he strolled out of the lounge. "You enjoy the rest of the day."

Clay quickly scanned the readings he was getting from the armor. In the weeks since he agreed to be Donnie Gill's trainer, he had learned to scan the information coming into 'The Docket' very quickly, processing it rapidly the way a quarterback goes through his progressions before throwing a pass.

The armor's core temperature was still good. The damage done to it by Q'Wake was minimal, although there were stress points that threatened to become full out fractures. The beta-scoop was still operating, assuring Donnie of unlimited energy to power his arsenal. He kept the files Jocasta has worked up on the Avatars up on the screen furthermost to the right. Clay tried to take in all of this information and break it down into something he could use to defeat these creatures. He was very aware of the time that was elapsing, and of the way Foundry and Q'Wake were closing in on Donnie with alarming speed.

"Do a check of the magnetic intensification system," he told his protege.

"But--here they come!" Donnie said in a tone that almost sounded like whining.

"Pulse bolt the two of them to open the field, the do a check," Clay barked. "Do it!"

"Okay, okay," came the response. On the feed from the helmet of the armor, Clay could see the yellowish-white pulses of energy hit the two monsters square in the chest, sending both flying. He craned his neck to glance at the system status board; after a moment, confirmation came that the magnetic intensifier system was online and functioning.

Q'Wake, not surprisingly, was the first of the two Avatars to find his footing again. With a roar, the stone-encrusted monstrosity pounded the floor with his misshapen fist. The floorboards splintered, and Donnie fell in the aftershock.

"Donnie, this is going to be tough, but I want you turn on the intensifiers full bore and taunt Q'Wake."

"You want me to get the stone bruiser _more_ angry at me?"

"Like I said, this is going to be tough. But we need him within arm's length."

Clay heard silence for a moment on Donnie's end of the line. When he did speak up, the youth said., "Let me try something."

Happy Hogan sat in a broken down office chair, the seams of which were liberally patched up with duct tape, and watched the events unfold involving Omnus Technologies.

Happy had been vaguely aware of what had transpired between his former boss Tony Stark and the now-defunct company run by Satsujin Moomji. He wasn't sure what the outcome had been, as the Stark Invasion guaranteed that his attentions had to go elsewhere. But Bethany Cabe had dropped hints that Tony was looking to purchase the company's holdings, which explained Iron Man's presence at the site.

**Happy had wondered on more than one occasion why his former boss was interested in purchasing a place that had caused him so much pain. He had figured Tony was going to tear it down. **

**But then he remembered that Tony Stark and his affairs were no longer his concern. He had a real job here, a job made all the more difficult with the death and destruction of the Stark Invasion. There were people who needed him, and he was all too happy to care for them. **

"**Is that your old employer?" came an aged, cracked voice from behind him. **

**Happy swiveled his chair around to see an aging, bearded man whose dark hair was rapidly graying to match the dead white streak down the center. The smell of ozone and unwashed flesh slowly filled the room. "Strange, what have I told you about sneaking up on people?" **

**The homeless man averted his eyes and muttered, "It's what I do best." **

'**Forget it," Happy said with a wave of his hand. "What do you want?" **

**If Strange had a reason for coming to see Happy, it was forgotten once he saw the television. The bedraggled man stepped forward, long grime-blackened fingers tapping his chin. "Stark." **

"**Nyah," Happy replied. He stood up. "We went over this before. The Stark are gone; that's just Iron Man." **

**Strange continued staring at the screen. "That...that pretty lady wanted you to return to Stark, didn't she?" **

"**Yeah, but don't worry about it. I told her you guys needed me more, so I'm here to stay." **

**Strange's attention refocused on Happy. Anger flickered in his eyes. "You...you turned him down?" **

"**I had to. I can't abandon you guys." **

**For a second, the smell of ozone coming off of Strange increased. The lights in the office flickered on and off. **

"**You shouldn't have said no, Hogan," Strange told Happy as his eyes seemed to glow. **

"**Now I'll have to say yes for you." **

**The Avatars Q'Wake and Foundry stalked through the rubble left in the wake of Iron Man's retreat effortlessly. The stone-visaged Q'Wake led the way, a chuckle like gravel being tossed into a blender on his lips. **

"**You cannot hide from us," Foundry called out. "Just as Stark cannot hide from The Doctor." **

**Q'Wake suddenly lurched in place, his hands scrabbling at his shoulder. From a point to the right of Q'Wake's head, the modulated voice of Iron Man said, "Well, if you put it that way..." **

"**Where is he?" roared Q'Wake as he was being lifted off the ground. **

"**I...I cannot tell!" foundry replied. "Deluge! We have need of you!" **

"**Don't bother," Iron Man said. Slowly, the distinct silhouette of the Golden Avenger faded into view. As detail, color and form began to slowly return to the hero, he swung the massive body of Q'Wake at his fellow Avatar. There was a crack as Foundry's chest plate shattered upon impact. Q'Wake struggled to free himself as Iron Man hoisted him up over his head again, but the hero's grip was firm. **

"**Deluge!" cried out Foundry. In the distance, a rumbling could be heard. **

"**Told you we had enough energy in the beta-couples to engage the chameleon circuits," Donnie told his mentor. '**_**and**_** run the intensifiers." **

"**Release me, stripling!" Q'Wake bellowed. "I do not know what magic you have--" **

"**It's called science," Iron Man shot back as he swung the massive creature down onto the retreating Foundry, causing the other Avatar's armor to break down further. "I've got the intensifiers up so high that it keeps the trace iron in your blood caught fast...right, Clay?" **

"**You are mad!" Foundry exclaimed. His hands transformed into pick axes, which he used to strike against his fellow Avatar turned helpless weapon. "You speak to yourself as if expecting an answer." **

**Iron Man twirled, Q'Wake held outwards, and knocked Foundry to the ground. He lifted the massive stone creature above his head and muttered, "okay, okay, I know..." before dropping the monster on top of his opponent's head. Iron Man's spread his arms out, letting the larger of the two Avatars press down on its fellow. Foundry's head lolled about as if on a spring. **

**The rumbling was getting louder. The gauntlets on the Golden Avenger's gloves spun rapidly. His hands flashed, as a number of whitish capsules flew out, smashing against the walls and covering them with frost. Another brief spin and Iron Man aimed downwards. Within seconds, a tough metal-alloy net covered the two insensate creatures. **

**Iron Man straddled the two as he saw the roiling wave of bluish liquid rushing toward him. He grasped Foundry's helmet in both hands and tipped its head back. "These systems seal up, right?" he asked as he loosened the golden helm and waited for the water-manipulating Avatar to come closer. The air around his mouth-slit misted. **

**When Deluge hit the frost-covered walls, he saw the creature slow slightly. Silently, Donnie wished that he had conserved more of the freon capsules--yes, Clay was right in saying he relied on them too much, but right now the situation he was in was perfect for them. As he watched, the strange, vaguely insectile form of Deluge seemed to take shape and disperse, as if it was struggling against the unprepared for drop in temperature. **

"**You looked like you needed to cool off, buddy," Iron Man said mockingly. **

"**You are only delaying the carrying out of the Doctor's orders," Deluge replied, his voice sounding, not surprisingly, as if it was coming from underwater. Its shape appeared in the ripples of the water, seeming to strain against the frigidness of the surroundings. **

"**Your buddy seemed to think so," Donnie said. "Maybe you better talk to him eye to eye." **

**Once more he turned on the intensifiers. Warning lights threw greenish shadows on Donnie's face, advising him that the power reserves were being seriously depleted. With a grunt of effort, he tore Foundry's helmet off--trying his best to ignore the ripping sound of the creature's flesh coming away in the bargain. **

**Without the helmet to control it, Foundry's single eye flared, ignited and sent a beam of fiery energy directly into Deluge. The hiss of steam as the energy hit Deluge was deafening. Plexiglas shield slid into place over Iron Man's eyes and mouth, but he could still feel the searing heat of the steam that resulted. For a moment, Donnie panicked, worried that he may succumb to the sudden raise in temperature. He shielded his eyes as the billowing clouds of steam roiled over him. **

**And when the steam dissipated, Deluge had disappeared. **

"**Well, what do you know?" Donnie muttered as he surveyed the immediate area. Q'Wake and Foundry were at his feet, unconscious. And Deluge--who knew what had happened to him. **

**It took Donnie a second to remember there was a fourth Avatar when something in his armor twisted in such a way that the complete supply of anesthetic gas was pumped inside to knock him out. The last thing he saw was the thin, withered form of Old Woman, her staff glowing with an eldritch light. **

"**What a **_**jerk**_**!" Donnie said sharply as he held the ice pack against his forehead. **

"**You didn't do too bad," Tony Stark replied. The industrialist was writing notes on a chalkboard, putting down everything they knew about their opponent. "The last time the Avatars showed up, it took a group of Avengers to get rid of them. You fought smart, listened to Clay, and defeated three of them. That's impressive." **

"**But I should have remembered that broad with the staff," Donnie argued. **

"**We both should have," Clay Wilson told his protegee. **

**Tony turned away from the chalkboard and placed his cane on the table. Lowering himself carefully, he looked toward Brendan. "What did the latest sigil say?" **

"'**The Doctor provides, the Doctor rewards,'" the Irishman replied. **

"**I would hazard to say this Doctor is...inscrutable, but I have enough PR problems as it is," Tony said, a faint smile playing on his lips. His gaze shifted to Bethany Cabe. "Have we determined if anything was missing?" **

**Bethany leaned back in her chair. "Nothing was apparent...but the facility was so badly damaged that--" **

"**It's hard to make a decisive assessment," Tony finished. He nodded. "Understood. So we've got no clues as to who this guy is or why he's attacking me and my past and future holdings." **

"**Well," Rhodey said as he slid some surveillance photos across the table to Tony. "We do have the markings." **

**Tony picked up the offered pictures and sorted through them. "What am I looking at?" **

"**You were with me when these Avatars first popped up," Rhodey explained. "The markings on these new Avatars' right fists are new. Some form of symbol--"**

"**...which you think might be a brand or tattoo denoting allegiance," Tony said to himself. **

"**I'll have Lindsey run those markings by our contacts," Bethany offered. "They might recognize the organization." **

"**Good." Tony reached for his cane. "You can do that while the rest of us are away." **

"**Wait a minute," Rhodey said. "We're going somewhere?" **

**Tony nodded as he rose. "China. You, me, Clay and Donnie are going to the ruins of the Mandarin's castle, we're going to sift through the debris, we're going to find that miserable son of a bitch's corpse, and we're going to firmly eliminate him from our list of suspects." **

**James Rhodes watched, stunned, as his boss and best friend left the conference room. **

**Pao Chen stood besides The Doctor and watched with him as the next coterie of warriors chosen for enhancement filed in. **

"**These are all fine, strong men," Chen told the man who he regarded as his undisputed Master. "They all possess the animal instincts that you desire for the transformation." **

**The Doctor nodded, his fingers steepled. "You continue to do well," he said quietly. **

**Pao Chen turned away from the half dozen warriors who now knelt before The Doctor. He made sure to avert his gaze from his superior's face, lest his action be deemed impertinent. "Are you sure they will come?" **

"**Yes," The Doctor replied. "Old Woman destroyed the equipment and made away with the notes he desired from Omnus, so he must retrieve them if he hopes to recreate the process. I have laid out clues that should bring him to the ruins of his nemesis' old palace. He will come, for he is desperate to have that which we have taken from him. He thinks it is my pale shadow he faces; he will learn otherwise." **

**The Doctor's eyes narrowed; Pao Chen could not tell if it was in mirth or aggravation. "And when he stands before me, I will give him the immortality he craves. And he will be mine." **

**In a tiny, cramped office that seemed two sizes too small for its occupant, in a tiny, cramped office block in London, a friend of Bethany Cabe's dead husband sorted through the Criminal Markings Database. The computer program had amassed thousands of brands, tattoos and tribal markings used by criminal organizations throughout the world so that a suspect's affiliations could be assessed quickly and cleanly. **

**Granted, it was proving to be a tough task; the markings on the second-generation facsimile Cabe's partner McPherson had sent him were hard to make out. But a few runs through the image enhancement software made it clear enough to match up. **

**It took the man an hour to place the marking, but when he did, his mouth dropped open. **

**The organization these 'Avatars' belonged to had been destroyed. He had participated in its downfall personally, during the time when he was a field agent and not a section chief. **

**He picked up the phone with large, calloused hands. His mind raced with images from the war that seemed to take forever, a war against an implacable enemy that seemed to never quite die. **

**The handset rang once, twice. He was about to hang up after the fourth ring when the call was kicked to the message center. The man waited for the short message to be over, smoothing his mustache with his free hand. **

**The beep arrived. **

"**Cabe, this is Tarr," the large man with jet black hair said after the beep. "Call me immediately. You have Si Fan problems."**


	35. Come When I Whistle

Iron Man

Chapter 35: Come When I Whistle

Tony Stark gazed outside the widow of the small aircraft. A number of his companions--most significantly Clay Wilson, who had arguably known him the longest of the small group flying to a small Chinese province where, not long ago, the threat of the Mandarin seemingly ended forever--had tried to engage him in conversation. But the handsome industrialist ignored all these attempts, one hand on the cane he used to walk and the other on his chin.

It was Brendan O'Doyle who spoke what everyone on this expedition thought. "He's broodin' over Jimmy's refusal to go."

"Why would it bother him so much?" Clay's charge, the former criminal Donnie Gill asked.

"Think, lad," the balding mercenary shot back. "Jimmy and he, they've been like brothers for as long as they've known each other's names. No matter what the danger, th' big man has known he had Jimmy at his back, always there to help him. An' now...now his brother not only t'ain't here, he refused t' come."

Clay looked back at his boss and muttered to himself, "Things have been getting tense lately."

"And are on track t' get tenser, mark my words," O'Doyle added. "And I don't mind tellin' the lot of you that I've had experience going into battle with tense commanders, and it t'ain't very fun."

"We're reaching the drop zone," Tony said, the grim, straightforward tone of the statement cutting through the hushed conversation. He rose from his seat, leaning heavily on his cane. "Everybody needs to be in their places. O'Doyle, remember to calibrate your armor to interface with Clay's Docket."

"Oh, aye," Brendan replied as he rose, a false smile on his face. "Can't be havin' any independent thought."

"I just want to have you all coordinated." Stark stated plainly. His eyes went from one man to the other. "I'll go on to the airfield and meet up with Jasper Sitwell and will travel with his contingent to meet up with you. Scout the area thoroughly, report anything untoward to me, and be on your guard. Once we're all together, we'll find that son of a bitch's body and then get back to the real question of who the hell is messing with my holdings."

"Ummm," Donnie Gill said. "What are we going to do with the body?"

"Since The Mandarin began life as a Chinese diplomat, we're returning it to the government. I've been told he has a family who would appreciate definitive proof of his death. Now let's muster up."

The three men watched Stark turn and walk toward the front of the plane. "Now, m'boyos," Brendan O'Doyle whispered, "I've seen cold...but right now...that is one heartless, iceberg of a man."

Pepper Anne Potts walked down the corridors of the temporary offices of Stark Solutions. In her hands were a sheaf of reports, a number of updates on a number of projects Tony had been consulting on before the Invasion. She was busy in her mind trying to cross-reference the reports with the list of clients who abandoned Tony after the aliens who had taken his name tried to lay waste to the world. Around her, members of the small staff and the construction people putting the floor in shape greeted her. Those greetings were ignored.

The fact was--and Pepper was a loathe to admit it to herself, let alone another soul--she was trying her best to hide in her work. The developments in her personal life during and after the Stark Invasion had left her off balance. To get close to someone, to think that she had found someone better suited than Happy, only to have that someone run away to Phoenix... well, the only way she could regain her balance for the time being was to lose herself in her work.

Since becoming a workaholic, Pepper had begun to hear sniggering comments among the employees about her. She had tried her best not to listen, but the frequency of the jokes and asides seemed to seep into her skin, crawling around inside her like insects. It was obvious she needed to do something lest she either became the ogre these people were talking about, or go mad.

Why, if she didn't know any better, she'd swear she was hearing...

"...new pastor, so I was able to come back--if you will have me."

...her ex-husband's voice.

"I'm sure Ms. Cabe will be grateful. Oh, Ms. Potts!"

Pepper turned to see Ms. Arborgast motioning to her. And next to her...

was Happy.

Her ex-husband. Apparently unchanged since the day he decided to walk out of Stark Solutions to help run the charitable arm of the local Catholic Diocese. Well, except for the skunk patch that now bisected his coarse brown hair--but considering who he was working for when the Invasion happened and what they tended to do to people of faith, the change in appearance was more than understandable.

She came forward, the reports now pressed to her chest, forgotten. "Happy...it's good to see you."

Happy smiled lopsidedly. For a second, Pepper swore she caught him looking her up and down like the day they first met (he tried his best not to be obvious about it on that long ago day, but that only made it more obvious--which was something Pepper found charming). "And you."

"Ms. Cabe asked Mr. Hogan back," Mrs. Arborgast informed her. "to help us with the...situation we've had with Mr. Stark."

Pepper laid her hand on Happy's arm. After a second, she discreetly removed it. "We're grateful you decided to change your mind, Hap. We're all worried about Tony's health."

"From what I've been told, it isn't his health that's the problem," Happy said in response.

"Well...his health, the situation with the life vest...it all contributes to the bigger picture," Pepper said. Her mind raced, wondering what she was thinking, giving an obvious signal so soon after seeing her boyfriend off. Her gaze once more drifted to the shock of dead white in the middle of his hair. "Why don't I show you to Beth's office, and she can fill you in more thoroughly."

Happy smiled. "Nothing I'd like better. Lead on."

"Man, I'll never get used to this."

Inside his helmet, Brendan raised an eyebrow. He looked over his shoulder at his fellow Iron Man. "What d'ye mean?"

"Flying," Donnie Gill replied. Even though the wind roared through the lower compartment of Stark's private jet, a panel having recessed enough to give the two armored figures enough room to leap out of, they were able to speak normally. The younger of the two Iron Men adjustied his gauntlets and tapped the right nacelle to increase the volume of his commlink slightly.

"You used to fly when you were Blizzard."

"I used to slide along on these ice ramps I generated," Donnie corrected Brendan. "No matter how high up I was, there was always something, you know, solid underneath me. But doing this--just cutting through the air like it was nothing--that's wild."

"You'll get used t'it."

"Gentlemen," the voice of Clay Wilson said over the two armored men's commlinks. "I don't mean to interrupt, but we are presently over the drop zone. I've already downloaded coordinates into your nav-computers."

"Aye, Wilson. It's tine t'earn our keep," Brendan said. He stepped aside and bowed to Donnie. "After you."

Donnie laughed nervously. He took a deep breath and stepped off the edge of the area into the atmosphere. Up this high, there was pretty much nothing but clouds on all sides of him. Donnie adjusted the interior cooling system with his palm control as Clay reminded him before suiting up. He counted to ten backwards, not ready to fire his boot jets until he was well clear of the aircraft. His descent stopped with a jarring lurch, and he was hovering in the middle of nowhere.

"Wow," Donnie managed to blurt out.

"Not time for tourism," Clay warned. "You might want to switch to auto until you're able to make visual confirm."

Suddenly, the bulkier Iron Man armor Brendan O'Doyle wore descended to Donnie's level and circled him. "Speak for yeself, boyo! Gettin' there is half the fun." With that, he dived downwards towards terra firma. Donnie hesitated, watching Brendan's gold-and-crimson form start to diminish before turning his body downwards and kicking the extra-boost on the boot jets in for a power dive.

As he caught up with Brendan, Donnie twisted in the air and asked, "So what do you think is down there?"

"A rather pleasant collection of odd things, I wager," Brendan replied. "Alien tech, some mystic artifacts, lots of wee baubles that would fetch a nice price."

"Just a reminder," Clay's voice said in their commlink. "We're here to look for a body, not pick up contributions to our respective retirement funds."

"Now what would be the fun in that?" Brendan shot back smugly. "All my previous mercenary contracts insisted on a salvage clau--"

That was the moment when the descending Brendan O'Doyle was blindsided and swept away by a bat-winged figure.

"So what is this 'situation' Ms. Cabe wants me to help with?" Happy asked as Pepper led him through the corridors to Bethany's office. Many areas were still unfinished, with the exposed sections being covered with thick, semi-transparent plastic sheeting. The sounds of construction could be heard behind and to either side of them.

Pepper glanced back and frowned. "That's funny. I would have thought Bethany would have filled you in."

"Well," Happy replied awkwardly. His hand unconsciously went to the back of his neck. "I'm afraid I didn't give her much chance to give me the whole picture."

Pepper smiled wanly in spite of herself. She knew what Happy meant--that the care of his charges had preoccupied his time, and he rushed Bethany out--and that realization only reminded her of his loyalty to his duties. It was one of the first things that made her realize what a good man he was. "Well, you know Tony got infected by that Techno-virus we used to defeat the Stark, right?"

Happy nodded. "I think somehow Ms. Cabe forced this info through."

"Well, some of the brain trust devised a vest that generates a magnetic field that keeps the virus from spreading. At first, he seemed like he was ready to get back to normal--he even appointed a new Iron Man."

"But it only lasted for a little while," Happy offered.

Pepper nodded. "He's letting himself go, Happy. He only shaves when he remembers, he's wearing the same thing two, three days at a time, and, well, his attitude has changed. He's rougher, ruder...he broods a lot. He ignores those of us who care for him--"

"Pep, he's been through more than any man can be asked to survive. If anyone has the right to flake out for a bit..."

"Hap...I've seen Tony 'flake out' in the past. So has Bethany--hell, he almost married her, and she helped him recover from his alcoholism, so she's seen him at his worst. This is different." Pepper paused. "That's why we need his closest friends here right now...including you."

For a moment, Pepper thought she saw something in Happy's expression. It was as if his smile became...predatory. But then it was gone, and in its place was the stoic, reliable Happy she married once, long ago. "I'll do what I can, Pep."

Brendan O'Doyle was taken aback for a moment as the bat-winged man continued pushing him out of proximity with the Gill kid. He was aware of these creature's existence; Gill and his keeper did make a detailed report on their attack on Stark Solutions, one that Brendan made it a point to read. He worked out possible strategies for dealing with these flying things that breathed fire as a mental exercise during downtime at the Avengers West Coast Compound.

...and yet one of these creatures had managed to separate him from his partner in a matter of seconds.

Brendan twisted in the monster's grasp as he worked his HUD furiously. He had tried to kick in his 'getaway' boosters that doubled his boot jet's speed and power, buy only got the creature's claws raked across his chestplate and helmet seals for his troubles. For a moment Brendan felt alarm, worried that the seals might be damaged; at this altitude he would certainly suffocate in the thin air. In the distance, he heard Gill firing his repulsors.

The commlink crackled to life. "Brendan, they're sensitive to light. Try to knock their shades off!"

"Thanks for the tip, lad," Brendan said as he toggled to the uni-beam and fired. The winged monstrosity finally was dislodged from his person. "But I don't think that'd be much help now."

Once he got a close look at his attacker, Brendan realized how truthful his statement was. The flyer--who was nominally of Asian extraction, with his hair cut military-short--sported a strange set of membranes that opened and closed rhythmically, covering his eyes with a smoky film. Its skin also sported a strange, pebbly texture; by switching to infrared, Brendan could detect areas of coldness on his opponent's body that could be analogous to armor plating.

"It seems whoever sent them your way last time," he told Gill, "improved a bit on the design."

"Tell me about it!" Gill replied. He was shouting over the whine of his repulsors. Brendan accessed his tracking software to get a fix on his fellow Iron Man, then activated the magnetic intensifiers in his gauntlets. The creature roared and moved forward.

"These wee bastards are distractions, lad," Brendan said as he sidestepped the dragon creature and smacked it in the back of the head with his magnetically enhanced strength. "We need to be rid of them."

"Well, I'm giving it my all." There was a sound like a flamethrower going off, and Gill yelped. "Whatever they're using for that flame breath got kicked up a notch."

"Donnie," Clay's voice said over the commlink, "you need to put distance between you and your attackers. You're overheating badly."

"Huh. Like I didn't know," Gill replied. "Can't we reroute a freon pellet or two into the cooling system."

"I'm on it."

Brendan dropped down quickly as his attacker came in fast. He allowed himself a moment to breath before he felt something slash across his back. Red type scrawled across the HUD warning of a outer breech. He spun around and kicked the new arrival in the stomach, firing his extra-boost. The added jolt of the booster jet both knocked the second dragon creature far back, but caused Brendan to go end over end in space. He engaged the targeting computer and aimed for the spaces between joints, firing a barrage of repulsor blasts. Something seemed to snap at the creature's left shoulder, and Brendan instantly closed in, smacking the injured limb with his enhanced fist. The beast screamed in pain--and then whimpered as Brendan put a hole through one of his wings.

He turned to the other winged being and hissed, "Hold out, lad. I'll be there soon."

"I hope so," Gill responded.

"And Wilson," Brendan added as he strafed the enemy with his repulsors, "Can I try what we were talking about?"

"I think so."

"Then let's do it."

James Rhodes groaned. "You mean there's _more_ of them?"

The man on the other end of the closed circuit connection scowled. He was a large man with a full head of black-as-pitch hair complete with full mustache. Rhodey got the impression he was decidedly uncmfortable in the tasteful suit he was poured into. "Believe me, Mr. Rhodes. The Doctor was here long before your playmates came along."

Bethany Cabe put a steadying arm on Rhodey's shoulder. "Continue, Director Tarr."

The man adjusted himself in his chair. "The Si Fan predates MI-6. Our best estimation is that it arose in the wake of the Boxer Rebellion, although our special consultant on the organization says it is much older. The general mission statement, as it was, speaks of displacing the European powers of the world with a totalitarian government patterned after Imperial China. However, I can speak from personal experience that the organization has become much more criminally minded in the last few decades. The fact is, it seems the Doctor is more interested in world conquest for conquest's sake and not for any nationalist agenda. Some of his plans, quite frankly, have been impenetrable as to motives. But the modus operandi of these attacks you've reported seems to be consistent with the last reported sighting, by one of your American super-hero chaps in the ocean."

"Okay, so the Doctor is a really bad guy," Rhodey growled. "We got that the first time he attacked Tony Stark's holdings. The question is why?"

"I can't rightly tell--our consultant is presently...unavailable," Director Tarr admitted. "But I can speculate based on the Chinam--our consultant's input."

"We're all ears, Director," Bethany said.

"Right." Director Tarr paused. "I can think of two reasons for The Doctor to be at your heels. One concerns the fact that Mr. Stark was at the crux of this bleedin' Stark Invasion. Given what we've learned, The Doctor has a proprietary interest in the Earth. He thinks it's his property, his rightful possession. By attracting the attention of the Stark to Earth, The Doctor could very well feel Mr. Stark did irreparable damage to his property, and as such he must be punished by having everything he owns taken away from him."

"That doesn't quite make sense," Bethany suggested.

"Damn skippy it don't!" Rhodey added, not bothering to hide his annoyance. "If that was the case, why didn't he start kicking Reed Richards' ass when Galactus stopped by."

Director Tarr nodded. "My analysts agree with you, Mr. Rhodes...which brings us to the other possibility. But I should warn you..."

"You will not like where we'll be going."

Donnie Gill was sweating.

He was sweating pretty bad--so much so that he wondered if he was on the verge of passing out.

It was the fault of these dragon creatures. They were presently circling him, being sure to fly out of reach at the last minute, and swooping all over, letting loose with their flame breath. Unlike the trio he encountered back in Seattle, their flames burned hotter, and the weird texture of their skin seemed to allow them to resist his repulsors.

"Clay," he admitted. "I'm not feeling so good."

Before his mentor could react, a broken ivory blur arced across the sky, smacking one of the monsters out of position. Something thick and red splattered against his eye-plates. Donnie kicked in his boot jets and moved upwards, giving him a unique view of what had happened.

What happened was Brendan O'Doyle. He was in the thick of the fray, his gauntlets glowing like an arclight, pulling things out of the dragon men that caused their foes to shriek in pain. "Lad, take out their wings," he called out to Donnie. "They're not armored like the rest of them."

"But...that's murder," Donnie replied. "I may have done lots of crap things when I was--"

"_Just do it, ye useless git!_" roared Brendan just before he swung what looked like a plate of metal he pulled from one of the dragon men into the head of another.

Donnie gulped hard and activated his targeting computer. The calculations took only a second. He hesitated, then used the HUD to switch his repulsors over to automatic.

In the back of his head, Donnie Gill convinced himself that it was the armor doing the deed, not him.

Repulsor rays flashed through the sky. In rapid succession, holes were punched in the bat-like wings of Brendan's attackers. In the seconds where the membranes allowed Donnie a look at these creature's real eyes, he saw naked fear just before they fell... "Good god," Donnie heard Clay whisper.

"What did you do?" Donnie demanded as he swooped toward Brendan.

"Converted the magnetic intensifiers so that they created an attractive, rather than a repulsive force," Brendan explained. "It allowed me to de-armor those bastard right quick."

"That's just--"

"The way we win, lad," Brendan said sharply. "And I don't know about you, but I'm a wee bit pissed off at how this Doctor tried to take us out. And I'm thinkin' whatever's in that castle is why. You coming?"

Donnie stared at his partner before nodding mutely.

"Right. Off we go, then," Brendan replied before diving down toward the castle below.

"In our...in _my_ dealings with the Doctor," Director Tarr said. "He's had a habit of...collecting people he thinks can be useful. Political figures, scientists, noted professors..."

"And Tony falls into the second category," James Rhodes finished.

"Yes. Maybe the Doctor has had Mr. Stark earmarked for collection, and now believes that the time is right to reap him in."

"Oh, God, Tony," Bethany said. Her hand went involuntarily to her mouth. "We need to get him sequestered. He's weak now--if he falls under..."

"Where is Mr. Stark now?" Director Tarr asked.

Tony Stark walked along the tarmac of the small airport. The slight Asian man in the ill-fitting suit was all business, not even bothering with a greeting.

There was something wrong with the way this was shaking out, Tony thought. It wasn't anything concrete--but his experience as a hero made even a mundance situation make the hackles on the back of his neck stand up. There was a scent that pervaded the air, a sharp one.

The Asian man led him into a small terminal, its glass panels affording Tony a complete 360 degree view of the complex. It was empty save for a single man, Asian like his compatriot, although taller and gaunter. When the man turned to face Tony, he was struck by how the face hid a sort of mundane cruelty, an inexpressiveness that Tony found unnerving. His hair was slicked back, and his mustache was impeccably groomed.

"Thank you, Pao Chein," the tall man said. The small man bowed and stepped out. The sharp scent was stronger in here. It was familiar to Tony.

"Gunpowder," he whispered.

"A necessary evil," the tall man said casually. "I am pleased you finally stand before me, Mr. Stark."

Tony scanned the terminal. "What happened?"

The tall man approached him slowly. "You have just found your way back to where you belong, Mr. Stark...in the service of one who will appreciate you for what you are."

"Where...where is--"

"The officials you were meant to meet? The officers of the law meant to guard you? They were dull witted pawns, and as such were removed from the board. Not like you and I."

Tony locked eyes with his host. He felt ill. "If you think I'm defenseless, my bodyguards--"

"Are pre-occupied at the castle," the tall man finished. "They will fight through all the bioengineered warriors I left there and by the time they are finished, our business will have been conducted."

"I don't know what you're planning here, " Tony warned. "But I'm not going quietly."

The tall man's lips twitched into what could be interpreted as a faint, wan smile. "Please, Mr. Stark. There is no one here for miles. And once you see what I have to offer you, you will not wish to leave."

The tall man reached into his suit jacket. "and I have not introduced myself, have I? I am The Doctor, although in a simpler time I was referred to by another name.

"Fu Manchu, at your service."


	36. Vitae

Iron Man

Chapter 36: Vitae

Tony smiled archly in an attempt to keep his rage at bay as the tall, vaguely satanic looking Asian man circled him. A peculiar flowery smell came off of the man who now stood revealed as 'The Doctor,' and all Tony could think of was how he wanted to knock the man out. But the stray twinge in his limbs reminded him of what he was.

For the time being, Tony Stark was incapable of utilizing his skills--skills taught to him by Captain America himself--due to the state of his body. Seriously damaged due to his running battles with the Stark during the invasion, his body no longer responded quickly enough to take on what appeared to be a very fit opponent. So Tony stood, leaning on his cane, and smiled hoping that something would develop that he could turn into an opportunity.

"You know my team won't be occupied forever," Tony eventually stated, struggling to keep his voice calm.

"We do not need much time," Fu Manchu retorted. "We are both men of learning, Mr. Stark. We will discuss my desire to add you into my coterie, and after you agree, we will part."

"You seem awfully confident."

The Doctor tilted his head and spread his hands. "I have had many years of life to gain such confidence."

"Many years," Tony elaborated as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "devoted to spreading misery and woe amongst most of the nations of the world, if I recall."

"Now, now, Mr. Stark. Misery and woe...they are necessary tools when one wishes to bring peace to the world."

Tony chuckled. "Is that all you want? I've met people like you before. Talked to one before coming here--you'd like him. A guy by the name of Doom?"

The Doctor seemed to bristle for a second. But then, he slipped his hand--which sported longer than normal nails--into his inside coat pocket and smirked. "I am...aware of the gentleman. He needs to learn...patience."

"Why don't you leave me alone and teach him now?"

The Doctor looked at Tony, and for a moment he was very much aware of how...old Fu Manchu's eyes looked. There were tiny lines and folds around his eye socket that made Tony wonder if rumors of the man's livelihood were more than rumors. "In a few hours, we will go forth from this place and teach Von Doom that lesson together."

"And how do you figure I'll be with you when you and that tin-plated dictator have a little talk?"

"Because, Mr. Stark," Fu Manchu said simply, as if speaking to a dog, "I am willing to reward you for your servitude with the one thing you've been seeking ever since you first donned your armor."

He smiled serenely. "I will give you freedom from death."

Donnie Gill followed Brendan O'Doyle down toward the castle at full speed, twisting in the wind currents to knock away the dragon creatures who came at them from all sides.

"This was a trap!" he exclaimed as he let fire with a pulse bolt that drove one of the dragon men into the cliff-face of a nearby mountain. They were now in the mouth of the canyon where the ruins of the Mandarin's castle lay, and the edifice could be seen--remarkably better preserved than Donnie expected it to be.

"And to be thinkin' I had no idea," Brendan replied as he reached out and grabbed hold of another dragon creature's wing. He wrenched hard, and the membranes on the wings ripped, effectively crippling his attacker. "I'm a babe in the woods, I am."

"Sorry," Donnie said, wincing at the sharpness of Brendan's tone. He layed down a wide arc repulsor beam to crowd out the men who were following them. "We better hurry. We'd be at an advantage down below."

"Once again," Brendan said, lifting his legs up and firing his boot jets full force into the crippled enemy's chest. "your insight humbles me, lad."

On the HUD, Donnie caught something move in the corners, like a ripple on the water of a puddle. Then his vision was filled by another of the dragon creatures. The winged man opened his mouth, letting loose with a gout of flame. Donnie turned his back, hoping the thermocouple in the epaulets would dissipate the waste heat.

"Great," Brendan muttered as he fired his repulsors into the creature's back. "Now we're at elevation where their breath weapons work."

"What are the--"

And then something seemed to tear itself away from the cliff face, launching itself an unnatural distance. It was a blur as it arced across the air before attaching itself to the back of Brendan's armor. Donnie found the creature's skin hard to focus on, as its color seemed to shifted and swirl. The creature's silhouette was bulky, like a wrestler's, and its features seemed ill-formed. A sound like nails on chalkboard rent the air.

"Christ!" Brendan cried out as he grasped one of the monster's too-long arms. "What is this shite?"

Donnie shot the thing with a narrow repulsor beam in its back. "I'm coming!"

But then another of the chameleon creatures launched itself from its hiding place, aiming for Donnie.

And another.

And another.

"I hope you appreciate this, Ms. Cabe," the burly man with the graying dark hair whispered to Bethany as they stalked through the terrain outside of the small airport terminal. "I had to do quite the song and dance for my superiors to get you permission to come along."

Black Jack Tarr crept forward, only briefly glancing back to make sure Bethany was following in his footsteps. They, like the other armed men and women slowly advancing in a circle around the terminal, were dressed in black military sweaters, watch caps and khakis, boots with special vibranium soles allowing them to step forward silently.

"Just as long as we get Mr. Stark out of here safely," Bethany whispered.

"If it's at all possible," Tarr replied, "You have my word."

There were an eeriness to the emptiness of the terminal--outside of the handful of men who surrounded the building, the tarmac was empty. Tony Stark's private plane was the only vehicle on the runway, its newness and shininess sticking out in contrast to the worn-down nature of the buildings around it. "How many do you think--"

"We have to assume your boss is the only one left alive," Tarr said abruptly and sighed. "If only we could've contacted the Chinaman...'

Suddenly, Tarr's hand went to his headset. Bethany saw the burly man's body tense. "Close in on the perimeter. Pascoe, Lightnell, take the north flank and investigate."

"What's going on?" Bethany whispered.

Tarr took out a small set of binoculars and handed them to her. "It seems our assessment was wrong, Ms. Cabe."

She brought the binoculars to her face and adjusted the lenses. The cargo hatch had popped open suddenly on the plane...

And something was crawling out.

The Doctor removed his hand from his coat and placed a small vial on the table in front of Tony. The small glass vial seemed to glow with an inner light, its color shifting with a seeming randomness.

"This is the elixir vitae," Doctor Fu Manchu stated plainly.

"How wonderful for you," Tony spat out and shifted his weight.

"I developed this when I was a very young man, Mr. Stark," the Doctor continued. "What it does is revitalize the body completely, restoring the elasticity to the skin and replacing dying or dead cells. It does degrade over the course of years, requiring the patient to drink of the elixir periodically, but if you follow the regimen, you will be immortal."

Tony watched the color of the liquid change from red to pink to orange as if it was a living thing. "That's impossible."

"When you live long enough, Mr. Stark," the Doctor countered. "One learns that impossible only has the power you allow it to have."

He stood before Tony, the vial between them. Tony found his gaze wandering to the small glass tube. "Everything eventually decays. Entropy is a built-in function of every living thing. There's no way you can--"

"Then how do you explain the existence of the Thunder God, Mr. Stark? Or Mr. Williams? Both have evaded death...have remained in a more or less constant state. I assure you, Mr. Stark, immortality exists, and I am offering you the opportunity to be one of the few people allowed its benefits. All I ask is your subservience."

"I'm not," Tony said, banging him cane down for emphasis, "anyone's slave."

The doctor smiled . "Everyone is something's slave, Mr. Stark. I'm not asking for you to be a blind follower--I have more than enough of those. Consider yourself an...honored underling if it will make things easier."

"You're not the first one to try this. You're not going to be the last. And you're not going to win."

"If that keeps you sane, you may think that," the Doctor replied. "But consider this..."

"In offering you the Elixir Vitae, what I am truly offering you is release from the thing that enslaves you."

Bethany Cabe put a hand on Tarr's arm. "Let me handle this."

"Ms. Cabe, need I remind you you're here as an observer and nothing more," Tarr snapped.

For a moment, anger flashed in Bethany's eyes. "If what just snuck out of Mr. Stark's plane is what I think it is, I'm the best equipped to interface with it. As Mr. Stark's Security Consultant, I've had extensive experience with metanormal and supranormal combat. Hell, I've piloted the Iron Man ordnance on two seperate occaisons--"

"Fine, fine." The burly Englsihman consulted his chronograph. "You have a minute. After that, my men are closing in. We've been after the Chinaman since--"

"Forever. I know," Bethany flashed a tight, brief smile. "Cover me."

Without looking back, Bethany emerged from her position and rushed toward the small tarmac. The figure was standing up and was obviously human. While the shadows of the plane and the late afternoon sun shrouded the figure in swaths of shadow, Bethany caught a flash of gold that confirmed her suspicion. It was too streamlined to be Brendan O'Doyle's armor, so she hissed, "Gill."

The figure spun and called out, "Get down!"

Bethany did as she was told and hit the ground hard, rolling over briefly to minimize the impact. Repulsors flashed, and an Asian man armed with a rifle was sent flying backwards. Another flash of metal caught Bethany's eye and she pulled herself into a crouch, aiming her gun and firing a series of three snap shots. There was a distant clatter of metal falling to the floor, and the MI-5 agents began flooding the area, ready to close the trap on their prey.

Bethany heard the man in the Iron Man armor curse under his breath. He stepped out from under the plane and began firing in support of the agents. Now that he could be seen clearly, she saw that this was neither Gill nor O'Doyle. The armor was, if possible, even less bulky than either--appearing on the operator as if it was a second, glittering skin. The mask was nearly featureless save for thin eye-slits.

As she got to her feet to help the MI-5 agents in their seige, she thought, Damn you, Tony.

Because her former lover had hid something from her yet again.

Brendan O'Doyle had made it a point when he agreed to become Iron Man to study the specs on the armor he was going to wear thoroughly. This was something he had learned while being a mercenary; the more knowledge you had, the better your chances of survival. Before he even took his first flight in his armor, Brendan knew every bit of ordnance it afforded him.

And at this moment, as a number of these hairy things, their fur shifting color to blend in with their environment, he was a little stumped.

He managed to get a little space by placing his gauntlet against one of the creature's chest and blowing away its heart (which had somehow been shifted so that it was hidden behind the liver, or all things--judging from the readings Brendan had gotten from a wide-spectrum light scan, the creator of these monsters had mixed their internal organs all up)...but they kept coming, leaping from the edges of the cliffs and grabbing hold of a limb, a shoulder, his waist. He re-directed a massive portion of power to the jet boots to keep himself aloft, but the drain was going to show.

"We're gonna crash!" Brendan called out.

Donnie twirled rapidly, tossing a pair of the creatures off. He was already beginning to show signs of losing the battle to stay in flight. "Can't the armor protect us."

Brendan managed to angle his right leg in such a way that he could fire his bootjet in a wide dispersal pattern, causing the chameleon creature to fall to the ground with a thump. There was an outburst of growling from down below, followed by horrid rending noises. "From 

final impact? I'm guessing so. From what we'd meet once we hit groundfall, I'm thinkin' not."

"but surely--"

"We're bleeding fuel at a rate God never meant, lad," Brendan pointed out as he drove forward full speed, slamming a number of the creatures clinging to his from into the cliff face. They released their grip on him...but it allowed two more to reach out and grab him without making the leap. "We'd be deep enough into this canyon that we wouldn't get sufficient power to use our weaponry effectively. We'd--"

"Be kibble. Gotcha." One of the creatures who were trying to tear at Donnie's arm suddenly froze up as highly concentrated coolant was released into its face.

Brendan strained to break away from the cliff face. The creatures clawed at the surface of his armor. Their claws weren't sharp enough to break the shell, but Brendan worried about how effective the seals would be for the individual assemblies. He briefly diverted some power into the magnetic intensifiers and drove his fist backwards. The creature hanging onto his arms found itself ground hard into the rocky cliff and fell away.

On his HUD, the charge indicator changed color from orange to yellow. There wasn't much energy left in the armor.

Then Donnie said, "I...I may have an idea."

"I'm all ears, lad."

"But I'm gonna need you to carry me out if it works." Donnie headbutted one creature. It fell away, dislodging another from his leg on the way down.

"And if it doesn't?"

"Well, we'll be worried about other things then, won't we?"

The Doctor smiled faintly upon hearing the gunfire. "Ah, I see my honored adversaries have arrived. Our negotiations must be quickened."

"There's nothing to negotiate," Tony said, unsteadily. "I won't subjugate my mind to another man."

"You are consistent in your convictions, Mr. Stark. I shall give you that."

"I've had far too many situations where I've been used as a pawn of others."

The Doctor took a moment to appraise Tony. "I am not looking for pawns," he said. "Granted, my methods have changed in the intervening years. As our individual races have marched toward homogeny, I have abandoned my nationalistic tendencies...but my belief 

that men of vision and intelligence _must_ take this dying Earth into hand and save it from itself. And with your gifts, I can see how much you can help me in that."

"And you want to lead the world by becoming its undisputed leader?" Tony asked pointedly.

The Doctor bowed. "It is not as if I relish becoming the Master of a World...but if someone has to take on the responsibility for these billions of souls, better myself than someone like Doom or, the Heavens forbid, inhuman nihilists like that Ultron creature or the reprehensible hate peddlers like The Red Skull."

"So just because you're polite, I should let you make me your dog?" Tony sneered. "Sorry, Doctor...I don't drink anyone's Kool-Aid."

"Save for, perhaps, this Hammer fellow...or that alien monstrosity the Empathoid?" The Doctor countered with a sigh. He closed his hand on the vial of ever-changing liquid. "If you insist on...resisting my generous offer, Mr. Stark, so be it. I will devote quite a lot of time to destroying you--if I cannot have a crucial piece, I cannot afford for others to have it, naturally."

Tony grimaced ruefully. "Naturally."

"But before we become enemies needlessly, let me make one final point."

The Doctor walked slowly towards Tony. "You are a vastly gifted man, Mr. Stark. Your advances in cybernetics, electronics and bio-mimetic engineering are a wonder to behold. But look back upon your life and consider this..."

The aged Asian was close enough that they were practically touching. He brought his lips to Tony's ear and began whispering. "All those advances were poured into your attempts to outrun death. Imagine the advances you could have made--you _can_ make--were that one fear was removed as an obstacle forever."

Donnie knew what Clay Wilson would think if he was privy to his plan; he would harangue Donnie on not relying solely on what he knew, and encourage him to think outside the box. As he started working the HUD to prepare his armor for this stunt, Donnie wondered in Clay would realize that, in a way, he _was_ working outside the box.

He could feel his body slowly sinking, as the weight of the chameleon creatures dragged him down. Donnie's mind raced, knowing how fast he had to work, need to work if this was to succeed.

"Open all ducts," he subvocalized to the onboard computer before shouting to O'Doyle, "Get your heating subroutines going, stat!"

"So you feel we should both plummet to Earth?" Brendan shot back, his magnetic intensifiers adding weight to his blows.

"Just do it!" Donnie shouted before subvocalizig, "Ducts irised to widest dispersal."

His armor hummed before indicating that the command was carried out. Donnie took a deep breath.

"Boyo, I hope ye're workin' hard--this isn't my idea of a way t' die!" Brendan called out.

Donnie struggled to raise his arms before saying, "Evacuate all coolant, waste and actual product, wide dispersal, immediately."

To Brendan O'Doyle, it seemed like Donnie Gill was consumed by a rapidly expanding whitish cloud. There was a noise that accompanied the spread, a cracking sound like ice cubes in a rapidly heating glass. O'Doyle's eyes danced as he manipulated the HUD, activating the heating unit to the maximum so that.

The chameleon creatures howled when the cloud touched them--but only for a second. Brendan felt a sharp drop in temperature as it roiled over him. He caught sight of rime and frost rapidly blossoming on the creature's fur. He flew backwards suddenly, and the creatures shattered and fell off him. A quick glance down saw a cascade of shattered body parts falling to the ground, followed by an unnerving smashing noise like shattered glass.

And then Brendan understood why Donnie needed him tyo carry him. Being at ground zero of this attack had caused his armor to blister and crack. Brendan imagined the young man would probably suffering from frostbite, if not worst. He flew under his partner and took him in hand, firing his boot jets towards the sun.

"W-w-we did g-g-good, right?" Donnie asked. Brendan worked his HUD to allow for topical warming elements to slowly raise his temperature.

"Ye did good, lad," Brendan said, his voice gentle. "Ye did damn good."

Bethany followed the golden-and-crimson figure of this third Iron Man. She was aware of the MI-5 agents on either side of them, closing in on the small terminal. Flash grenades were lobbed into the structure through broken windows.

"It's you, isn't it, Clay?" she called out.

The Iron Man was silent. A trio of gunmen rushed him, but a wide angle repulsor scattered them. Bethany noticed that these repulsor bursts seemed to be this armor's only weapon. In usage, this Iron Man seemed to most resemble the 'Evader' mode of the Living Iron system.

"We have penetration!" an English voice came on her headset. "I repeat--penetration has been achieved!"

Bethany pushed passed the Iron Man. She was already shucking off her flack jacket. Scanning for the nearest broken window, she tossed the garment over the jagged glass shards and climbed into the terminal. Her nostrils filled with the acrid smell of gunfire and smoke. She struggled to wave away the thick grey clouds and called out, "Tony! Call out! We're here!"

An MI-5 agent, a thin man with thin lips and basset hound eyes, took hold of her arm. "You shouldn't be here, miss. No telling what they've got in store here."

"Tony!" Bethany called out. She pulled away from the agent and glared at him before moving deeper into the terminal interior. "TONY!"

"Beth?" came a thin voice. "Is that you?"

She caught sight of a silhouette, lean yet powerful--yet seemingly so fragile thanks to the cane. Bethany caught her breath and ran towards it.

When she saw him, obviously shaken and with smudges on his face and clothes, Bethany held back a tear of relief. She ran to him and threw her arms around him. "It's okay. It's okay."

"Are O'Doyle and Gill--"

"They're reporting in now," the metallic, electronically distorted voice of the third Iron Man said. Bethany turned to face the armored man. "Gill may have some injuries."

"W-well, contact Wilson and get the Docket ready for treatment," Tony said.

"He's not here!" called out an MI-5 agent.

"Don't say that yet!" Blackjack Tarr called out. "Look under the floorboards, if need be. I want that Chinaman in chains _now_."

Tony looked into Beth's eyes. "You weren't supposed to be here."

"You shouldn't have been here, either," Bethany replied. "Lucky for you, I'm your security consultant, and I don't do things half assed."

Tony was quiet for a moment before saying, in a small voice, "I'm glad you came."

And then he collapsed just close enough to Bethany that she could catch him.

She didn't notice how his right hand seemed tightly clenched into a fist.


	37. Strange Bedfellows

Iron Man

Chapter 37: Strange Bedfellows

Pepper Hogan-Potts stood in the doorway of the file room staring at her ex-husband. It was obvious he was unaware of her arrival, and for a moment she considered not saying anything to see just how long it would be before Happy Hogan realized he was not alone.

But then realizing that he wasn't aware of her somehow made her sad. _I shouldn't be feeling like this_, she admonished herself. _We were long done for years..._

She bit her lip and added, _maybe it's not him I'm missing._

She kept quiet, observing Happy pour over files with an intensity she never saw before. His movements bespoke of an...eloquence and grace she hadn't noticed in all her time she was married to him. Had that diocese, Pepper mused, affected him so much?

Finally, when curiosity gave way to discomfort, she coughed.

Happy looked up, and for a moment, it looked like he was upset--even angry. but then the intensity left his eyes and he smiled lopsidedly. "Hello, Pep. Spying on me?"

Pepper hesitated. Her hand went to push back a lock of her. "Well, I have to keep on top of things when Tony's away, right?"

"You always were," Happy replied. He put aside the papers and stood up. "I've been out of the loop for a while, so I thought I'd bring myself up to speed."

"You could've asked me or Bethany, or Mrs. Arborgast--"

"Or Rhodey." Happy shrugged. "If I went to one of you, the view I would get would be skewed. Here I get it raw and unvarnished." He walked toward her, and Pepper swore something changed in his eyes again. He was looking at her the way he used to when they were in the bedroom...only without the warmth he always allowed her to see.

And at that moment, it suddenly occured to Pepper what it was that bothered her about her newly returned ex-husband. As they exchanged friendly smiles and Happy murmured his goodbyes, she knew this man was...off somehow.

She stood outside the file room, going through the conversations they had since his return. Slowly, she entered the library to look in on what he was actually reading.

The full realization of why Pepper thought her ex-husband was off hit her as she realized what he may be planning.

She was on the phone immediately. Somebody needed to know.

Tony strode up aside them in the aisle. "We're about to touch ground. You three better buckle up."

As the other two men prepared to strap themselves in, Brednan O'Doyle locked eyes with his employer. "You should have allowed Wilson t' tell the lad."

Tony blinked and shifted his cane from one hand to the other. "Excuse me?"

"About the other armor. Ye did nae have t' tell me; I'm not the one guardin' ye directly. But Gill, he's your last line. He deserved t' know his trainer is also his emergency back-up."

"Donnie is an employee," Tony said quickly without missing a beat. "My having an emergency back-up in case he is incapacitated--which he _and_ you were--is my business and my business only."

Donnie leaned forward in his chair. "None of my business?"

"Yes," Tony replied levelly. "Maybe if you knew, you wouldn't work as hard to protect my interests."

Donnie's hands went to his seat belt. His fingers scrabbled to release himself, but Brendan stayed him with a slightly raised hand. "One thing I learned as mercenary is don't keep secrets from your men. You continue keepin' secrets from us, you may regret it," he said, his eyes hard as steel.

"I can always find other men to fill the armor, O'Doyle.'

"Aye, that's true," the Irishman replied as he turned from his employer. "But maybe ones not as loyal t' you. Think about it."

Bambi Arborgast looked both ways, lowered her eyeglasses, and whispered, "Happy Hogan is _what_?"

Pepper found herself doing the same thing, looking around to make sure they weren't being watched. She worried that her paranoia had increased. "I'm not quite sure what he is, but that man poking around the offices isn't my husband."

Mrs. Arborgast took Pepper by the shoulder and led her into her private office. She locked the door and motioned for Pepper to take a seat. "Are you sure about this?"

Pepper nodded her head. "You know he's been in the company files, right?"

"Well, it's no secret that a number of people--you, Happy, Mr. Rhodes, Ms. Cabe--have unlimited access to the grounds. It's always been that way."

"Well, let me tell you something, Mrs. A," Pepper said, barely containing the nervousness in her voice. "my ex-husband has always been a great guy, but smart is one thing he's not. And 

what I've caught him looking at is something Happy wouldn't know what to make sense of, let alone _want_ to read."

"And that is...?" Bambi asked, sliding behind her desk.

"Patents. Plans. Electronic schematics. Diagrams." Pepper leaned forward. "All the time I spent with Tony, all Happy could appreciate these things are as weird lil' pictures...and he looked like he was understanding it all. Not only that, he seemed...offended and upset that I was looking in on him."

Bambi took a moment to take it all in. Finally, she said, "Okay, so he's taken on some strange interests...why come to me?"

"Because...Bethany Cabe still en route from China with Tony, Rhodey is in New York helping finalize the transfer of Stark Enterprises, and Casper Sitwell is occupied doing clean up of some of the remaining Stark Invasion hot spots. That leaves you...the one person close enough to Tony to believe me, and trustworthy enough that I can feel safe watching my back."

"So you don't want me helping you because of my superior filing skills?"

Pepper chuckled unsteadily. "Well, you were in the Marines, right?"

"Army, but I'll forgive you this once." Bambi Arborgast leaned in, giving the meeting a bigger sense of conspiratorial introgue. "So let's say I'm willing to explore this theory...where do we go from here?"

He smirked. The joy he was feeling made his new name almost appropriate.

Poor, innocent Happy Hogan...if it was up to him, he would have called him something more fitting--like Naive, or Gullible.

He ran his fingers--his young, strong fingers--through his hair. Sadly, he could not escape the skunk patch that he acquired as a result of the experiments that super-charged his brain all those years ago...back before Stark's henchman had intervened and took his daughter away. Still, he suppose he could use it as a badge of honor, of superiority.

He was right. Everything he had read of Stark during his period of poverty and humiliation indicated that he was a pack rat; the man was incapable of discarding any of his old innovations, no matter how dangerous or useless.

Including this one.

He made note of the location. His brain--Happy's brain, technically, but still super-stimulated due to increased electrical impulses to the point of being like his--stored it, ready for easy access. He marked up the schematic with the notations necessary to affect the proper change and rolled them up, slipping them under his jacket. It had been a long time coming, but he would have his revenge...

As Tony hobbled down the staircase to the tarmac, the burly Englishman named Tarr was waiting for him, arms folded. On either side were two younger men, both agents of MI-5.

"Mr. Stark," Tarr began before Tony touched the ground. "We need to have some words about what happened."

"Mr. Tarr," Tony said, trying his best to pull himself up to his full height while still leaning on his cane, "I have been through a lot of trauma these last few days. When I am relaxed, I will gladly write up a statement recounting my experiences with the Si-Fan, but right now I need to go home and try to put this behind me.

Tarr scowled. "You're the first bloke to have contact with Fu Manchu in years."

"Lucky me." Behind him, Bethany Cabe was descending from the stairs.

"You can provide valuable insight into tracking this man down, Mr. Stark. Surely ending this man's reign of death and misery should appeal to your sense of obligation, if not your sense of justice. At the least, you should do it out of gratefulness for our coming to help you."

"If I recall correctly, Mr. Tarr, I didn't ask you to come save me. I have my own security, thank you."

"What, those poxy Iron Men of yours? Where were most of them?"

"That's for me to know, not you," Tony motioned with his cane. "If you'll let me by."

Bethany placed a hand on Tony's arm. "Tony, Blackjack volunteered--"

"Blackjack Tarr volunteered because he knew I could be used to draw his Golden hind out of the brush," Tony snapped. "Mr. Tarr, unless I'm wrong, MI-5 has no jurisdiction here. I have promised you a statement in due time, but until then, I have to ask you and your stooges to leave."

Blackjack Tarr's eyes narrowed. "This isn't over, Yank."

"Now it is," Tony replied. "Good day to you."

He sneered at the presence of the SHIELD agent guarding the elevator to Stark's private workshop--the so-called 'Skunkworks.' The agent looked half his age, a whelp more suited for joyriding and going to prom, not wielding deadly weapons. To his credit, though, the agent kept his eyes straight ahead in true military style.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Hogan."

"Good afternoon, Agent...?"

Only when the agent realized he was waiting for some sort of response did he say, "Valenotti, Mr. Hogan."

He smiled weakly. "Good afternoon, Agent Valenotti. I've been asked to retrieve some equipment for Mr. Stark. I guess I'll need a transport, and maybe a few extra hands to help me?"

"The workshop is presently under limited lockdown, Mr. Hogan," Agent Valenotti replied. He realized that part of what made the boy look so young was due to a smattering of acne scars dotting his cheeks. "It suffered serious structural damage."

He chuckled. "You do know I've been with Mr. Stark for a long time? And that I've made my way through broken ground more dangerous than what's below?"

"It's for your own safety, Mr. Hogan." The agent kept his eyes ahead, his posture straight. "We have no reliable assessment of how much damage Mr. Stark's workshop has incurred."

For a brief moment, Happy's hand seemed to move toward the agent's neck, fingers curled. But then he lowered his arms and grinned. "Well, if you really want me to tell Mr. Stark to tell Deputy Director Bridge he no longer has access to valuable equipment because of one agent who's got his nose stuck so far into the book his lower brain has papercuts..."

_That_ caused the agent's resolve to flicker. His uncertainy lasted only for a moment, but that was all Happy needed. "But the danger--"

"I've face more danger than you need to know about, son," Happy snapped. "Now why don't you get a few of your fellow agents to help me move what I need out of here..."

Donnie Gill stood before Clay, arms folded. Clay couldn't help but notice that the young man hadn't even gotten into the 'coolsuit' that helped keep him comfortable while in the Iron Man armor. "I'm not putting it on."

"Oh, come on, Donnie--"

"No. It's been two days, and Tony hasn't said anything to me. It's like the moment we stepped off that plane, we were nothing to him. And maybe with Brendan going back to LA, I can force him to tell me what's going on."

Clay sighed and massaged his temples. "You do know that a lot of projects got slowed up while we were dealing with this Si fan thing, right? And that the British government is giving Mr. Stark Hell for not cooperating?"

Donnie shook his head and went to the coatrack, retrieving his leather jacket. "Don't know, don't care. He wants me on the team, he gotta come clean." "That's not very fair to everyone else," Clay pointed out.

"Why? He's got you if I walk."

"I wasn't talking about the Stark people." Clay leaned against The Docket. "Tony offered me the armor before he came to you, Donnie, and I turned him down. I had some problems with it the last time I wore it...

He shook his head. "But in the months I've been working with you, Donnie...look, you're good. You're really, _really_ good. And I'm proud to be there as your support staff. I think that, knowing your history, both our lives won't be as good if you walk away. And the people we've saved so far...I'm sure they'd like to keep you around."

Donnie paused, rubbed his neck. "I don't like taking this big a risk and having people conceal things from me. It happened too much when I was Blizzard."

"Believe me, I know," Clay replied. "Look, why don't you go take a spin in the armor and think really deep about what you want to know. And when you come back, we'll go together and force Tony to tell us what we need, okay? Provide him with a unified front. Deal?"

Donnie was quiet for a long moment. For a moment, Clay thought he had lost him before the young man nodded and mumbled, "I'll get in the suit."

And once he was outside, Clay Wilson let out the deep breath he had taken in anticipation.

Tony Stark sat in his temporary office, the lights lowered, and contemplated his next move.

He was aware that people were talking. He was very much aware of how his secretiveness was upsetting those around him--not to mention Black Jack Tarr at MI-5 (first Latveria and now Great Britain; he was going to end up International Enemy #1 literally as well as figuratively if things kept up). But he had to devote attention to this one thing before it was too late.

And it would be too late sooner rather later. Even though they said the vest would keep him healthy in perpetuity, Tony imagined he heard the technovirus slowly, achingly making its way through his tissue. He imagined when the lights were out how it was making his red and pink tissue black, and how the glow of the organic wires that replaced his veins were glowing under his skin.

But he had a possible solution...not just for him, but for many of the people of the world. If only he could crack the code...

But to crack the code, he would need help. He was a very intelligent man, yes, but his area of expertise was in engineering, in electronics and mechanics. This required something more...

He smiled.

Something organic.

Slowly, he reached for the phone.

He stopped in front of the man slumped in the doorway next to the decrepit dry cleaner's. He sneered at the sight of the man in a ski jacket so filthy he couldn't tell what color it was originally, a knitted skull cap with a smiling Mickey Mouse sewed on it too small for his wild-maned head. The stench was overwhelming, a mix of stale sweat and excrement that made him sick.

"Sully," he finally said, wondering if he was going to have to kick him awake.

Sully snorted and stirred, coughed and hocked up a ball of green phlegm so diseased it made him look sick. He wondered how he could have lived amongst them for so long after being released from prison, after abandoning his attempts to locate his daughter. Red, rheumy eyes open and looked up.

A smile half-full of blackened stumps broke on the vagrant's face. "Hawpy," he slurred.

"Hello, Sully. What are you doing here?"

The vagrant seemed to flop about until his back was against the peeling paint of the door leading to the upper floors. "Nowhair to go since tha wah."

"Well that's changed," he said. He hesitated for a moment, but forced himself to extend his hand. "I found a new place for the shelter. I'm taking you there now."

"Rilly?" Sully said as he hauled himself to his feet. He felt ill as he noticed that Sully had foregone shoes--his feet were nothing more than leathery, cracked flesh. "You always good ta us, Hawpy."

"I know."

"You gon make sure they don't take my stuff, right?" Sully asked.

"Of course," he answered with a smirk. "You just need to do one thing for me."

Donnie flew along the Puget shoreline, the only sound the muffled roar of his boot jets.

In keeping with Clay's desire to give him some time to think, he had not entered the Docket and would only take his position as Donnie's advisor if there was trouble. It was one of the first times Donnie got a chance to appreciate the joys of flying in what amounted to his own personal fighter plane...

Well, Mr. Stark's personal fighter plane. Donnie wondered how much longer, if he decided to stay, he would keep the job. And if his tenure as the Golden Avenger ended, would Mr. Stark keep him employed? He knew the man had an interest in his well being early on going back to when Justin Hammer first gave him the Blizzard uniform...but how long would that last?

That, to Donnie, was his biggest fear--that Mr. Stark's interest would wane and Donnie would once again end up on the street, tempted to turn back to metacrime to make ends meet...

And thinking about his criminal past only brought more anger at what he discovered about Clay's third set of armor. All his career as Blizzard, Donnie had come up against villains who lied to him, who betrayed him, who offered him up as a sacrifice when their plans went awry. Oddly enough, the only criminal 'mastermind' who treated him with respect was Justin Hammer--but he was dead, which meant...

Donnie suddenly felt very light-headed...just as his field of vision seemed to sparkle...

Sully seemed frightened once he led the vagrant to the Enervator.

He could understand why; the device was both confusing and intimidating. No longer having access to an entire island's resources, he had to improvise. Thus, the vaguely gun-like device that housed the Enervator was altered with a crisscross patchwork of wires, circuit boards and computer components that hung around the room like high-tech bats. Even he worried that the cobalt element, having been unused for years, might have cracked in the intervening years and condemned him to an early grave.

But then he realized that the body he was in was Happy Hogan's, and not his...and that made him smile.

He felt Sully resisting, pulling at him. "Wha's that?" the man said, red-rimmed eyes wide as saucers.

"It's called an Enervator. My boss made it to help people. It'll make you better...heel all that sickness and disease. Hey, it helped me twice, and my buddy Eddie once."

"I dun--dun know! Lemme go!" Sully cried out.

He sighed. He so hated to do this--he has no idea how the effects of the Enervator would change in response to a subject being exposed to another form of energy...

He pulled out a small disc the size of a poker chip--something that Iron Man had recovered from an enemy and brought to his employer, evidentally. He slapped in onto the vagrant's spine, and Sully's eyes instantly went blank, his grimy and rotting body suddenly pliant. Slowly, he led the man to the table in front of the massive device. He laid him down and strapped the man in securely. From a heavily barred door behind him, he heard Sully's compatriots pounding constantly.

He took a position behind the radiation shield and put on protective goggles. "It will make you better," he told the unconscious Scully. Something behind the door screamed, something deep and bassy and not even remotely human.

He turned on the Enervator. The giant barrel of the acceleration tube came to life. The nozzle glowed a harsh blue. "Better for my plans..."

"Better," he said, "For the _Evil_ Doctor Strange."

And as the beam of the Enervator shot out to bathe Sully in its energies, something behind the door roared. And the roar sounded like thunder.

The commlink chirruped to life as Clay looked over the schematics for the new Stark Enterprises' transport system. He tapped on the Blue tooth device and asked, "What's up?"

"Mr...Mr. Wilson... something's...wrong."

Clay got up from his chair. "Donnie, calm--"

"I--I seem to be fading in and out!" And indeed, to Clay it did seem like Donnie's voice rose and fell unevenly like he was disappearing.

"Donnie, you need to calm down...I'm going to The Docket, and we're going to figure this out."

He was two steps to The Docket's hatch when he heard Donnie cry out--a cry that ended abruptly,

...and was followed by the sound of something hitting the water.

"What the Hell happened here?"

Pepper Potts raked her flashlight over the uneven ground of what looked like an auditorium. Cheap plastic chairs and broken parts of fiberboard tables littered the broken ground, and the smell of mold and must was heavy in the air.

"I would think that was obvious," Bambi Arborgast replied. "The Stark happened."

"There has to be some clue here," Pepper said. She stepped carefully, steadying herself with one hand on the filthy words. "If whatever happened to Happy happened, it would have to be here."

"It might not be here anymore, Mrs. Potts. War has a habit of eradicating the past. Just ask Dresden."

"But we need to--wait!"

The flashlight landed on a corner of the room. Curled up was a filthy looking old man with scraggly hair down his back. He looked bad; what was exposed of his face was swollen and bruised.

Mrs. Arborgast put a hand on Pepper and moved past her. "Let me handle this. I have first aid training. Who knows how long he's been here."

Suddenly, the man turned onto his back. And what he said chilled Pepper's bones.

"Pep?" the broken old man asked. "What happened to me, doll?"


	38. The Freaks Come Out Tonight

Iron Man

Chapter 38: The Freaks Come Out Tonight

It occured to Pepper Potts-Hogan that she, security consultant Bethany Cabe, and the man between them, were attracting a tremendous amount of attention as they made their way through the corridors of Stark Solutions. Usually, this was because both women were highly attractive redheads--although Pepper's attraction was more of the 'cute and sassy' variety. This was not the case this time. The fact was, the man was attracting all the attention and it wasn't difficult to know why. This man, who could be anywhere from 40 to 80 years old, was unwashed, unkempt, and smelled of body odor and waste. Dirt had taken seemingly permanent residence in the lines of the man's face, and his tattered mismatched clothing hadn't seen a laundry in years.

And yet, Pepper Potts-Hogan was convinced that the homeless man she and Bethany were escorting to see Tony was her ex-husband, Happy Hogan.

Which, in turn, beggared the question...who was dwelling inside the physical shell of Happy Hogan?

The commotion caused by two senior members of Stark Solutions leading a very ripe, ragged homeless man was bringing people out of their offices. Suzanne Tsuyama, the press agent charged with rehabilitating Tony Stark's, and Iron Man's, image, opened her door, her nose crinkling. "Buddha wept, I'm all for amping up the community service, but--"

"You knew things were gonna get weird when you took the job, didn't you, Tsuyama?" Bethany Cabe asked. She took the too tall, rail-thin woman by the elbow.

"Well, uh, yeah," Suzanne replied, trying to act as nonplussed as possible even though she sturggled to keep up with Bethany's stride.

"He told you you might have to do some strange things?" Bethany asked. Off to one side, contractors working to shore up a supporting wall snickered at the sight of three fashionable women walking with a smelly bum.

"Yeah."

"Well, here's the weird part," Pepper said, matching Bethany's determination with a degree of her own. "The mind of Happy Hogan, my ex-husband, is trapped inside this man's body."

"But then who's been hanging around claiming to be Hogan?" Suzannr asked.

"He called himself Strange," the homeless man said in a cracked, rubbed-raw voice.

"I'm going to find Tony," Pepper said.

Bethany stopped. "Good. I'll find Donnie and Clay. Happy, go with Pep. And Ms. Tsuyana, I want you to locate our erstwhile Happy Hogan and keep him contained. Who knows what he's up to in that body. Don't let on that we know, okay?"

Suzanne glanced about the area before nodding her head.

Pepper returned the nod. "Hap...come with me."

The homeless man looked at Pep with rheumy, bloodshot eyes. "How will you convince him?" he asked with a voice that sounded rubbed raw with steel wool.

"He'll know," Pepper replied as she resumed stalking down the corridor. "He just will."

Strange looked at the fallen security guard, tilting his head from side to side. The man was overweight, balding, and favored his right leg in a way that Strange had assumed was the onset of arthritis. And yet the man tried to bar his way--while he was housed in the body of a man who kept in top physical shape. Strange couldn't decide if this was due to extreme loyalty to Tony Stark or an extremely stupid overestimation of the man's skills.

Strange shrugged. There was no time for such speculation. His revenge was at hand.

Above him, was the office building that presently housed Stark Solutions--the latest iteration of Stark's business. It did occur to Strange that there were other businesses in this building, businesses that didn't deserve to have the fury of his revenge visited upon it.

But thinking of what Iron Man had done--of the empire the man had stolen from him in the name of Tony Stark--made any thought of mercy disappear. He had become the lowest of the low, a creature who crawled along in alleyways and scrounged for garbage scraps thanks to this man. If other people got hurt because they stood between Strange and his revenge, so be it; the way the political clime was going, Stark would be blamed.

Behind him, in the special van Strange had requisitioned from another Stark Solutions outpost, the sound of fists beating against specially reinforced walls could be heard. Strange turned, the malevolent power of his electric brain reaching out to seize his army's thoughts. As one, the beating stopped.

He took a moment to savor the calm before the storm, the last quiet minute of Tony Stark's misbegotten life...

and opened the doors.

"I'm telling ye, Wilson...the lad isn't here,"

Brendan O'Doyle, who had been the mercenary Mauler in a previous life and now served as one of two Iron Men in the employ of Stark Solutions, pulled up from the surface of Puget Sound. The sparkling blue waters glinted off his armor, the waves disrupted by the raindrops. The rumble of thunder made Brendan think that Seattle was in for another long stretch of being doused by nature.

"This is where he reported from last," Clay Wilson told him over his comm-unit. He could imagine the man sitting in that strange egg-shaped room called The Docket. "If he went under, he would be here."

"I'm tellin' ye, Gill t'isn't here. There's no sign of him at all. No heartbeat, no heat signature, nothing--and ye know that th' ordnance would preserve his body even if--"

"I know, I know." Brendan flew higher. Thoughts of returning to Los Angelos and the relative comfort of the West Coast Avengers compound--not to mention the comliness of his female co-workers--filled his head.

"Look," Clay said with a sigh. "Return to base. I'll ask Tony to requisition the Sea Armor, and you can dredge the floor. There could be a chance that the currents pushed Donnie out to sea."

"Oh, Jaysis wept, Wilson," Brendan shot back. "Ye know as much as I do that the armor th' lad is using is a mite heavy."

"It's a small chance, but it's a chance. We're up near the Arctic, and if there's some polar melt...just come on back."

Tony Stark kicked the teleconference module and cried out. He stumbled backwards, a throbbing pain now shooting up his leg. The venting of his fury was going to result in his toes bruised at the very least, which was something he definitely didn't want in addition to his already fragile constitution.

Hank Pym had just informed him that for the Avengers West Coast to continue, Iron Man had to be excluded from the new line-up. Now that he had severed the connection, Tony thought he maybe shouldn't have been so harsh in reacting to the news--but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. He and Hank were part of the original group that founded the Avengers, and he was responsible for the team never having to want, providing funding and equipment without question. But Tony had always thought that he would be welcome in their circle...

He gently squeezed the vial he clutched in his right hand. Tony looked down and wondered why he hadn't taken it yet...

The knock at the door interrupted his reverie. "Come in."

The smell proceeded them. It was one that was unfortunately far too familiar with Tony, and what prompted him to pump so much money into homeless shelters and soup kitchens throughout the Puget Sound area. It was the scent of unwashed, alcohol-soaked humanity, the smell of neglect and despair. It was the smell he had draped over his person during the time he had lost to his addiction years back. Tony found himself breathing through his mouth to minimize the heaviness of the mix of disease, waste and dirt.

Pepper Pott walked in with a jittery determinism, followed by what Tony had to assume was the source of the smell. It took a moment for Tony to see Pepper's companion through all the grime, but he appeared to be an older man. The way the dirt and soot caked in his wrinkles 

made him look even older, bordering on anceint. His back was bent and he shuffled in a way that favored his left leg.

"Pep, I encourage being active in the community but--"

"It's Happy," she blurted out.

Tony's eyes went from Pepper to the man and back again. "I think I knew what Happy looks like, and--"

"It's me, Tony."

Tony stopped in mid sentence, his mouth hanging open stupidly like he endeavoring to catch flies. The voice that issued out of the man's mouth was cracked by age and seemed rubbed raw with alcohol abuse--but it spoke with the vocal inflections and tics of one of his oldest friend. He came out from behind his desk and studied the man. In the back of his head, Tony considered the possibility that this man was just a clever mimic--but all he had to do was remember all the things he had seen in his life to quiet that thouight. "Happy? What happened to you?"

"One of my clients at the soup kitchen was a meta...he somehow switched minds with me."

Tony leaned on his cane. "So the Happy who came back--"

"Is this...Strange character. I caught him pouring over some of the projects you had in the pipeline, highly advanced stuff that Happy couldn't grasp, nor wanted to--no offense, Hap."

The homeless stranger gave the girl a gap-laden smile. "None taken."

Tony paused. He seemed to tighten his grip on the vial; to the best of his knowledge, neither person knew what he had in his hand. "Wait one moment...this man who switched minds with you...is called Strange?"

"Yeah," the homeless man said before coughing. "That's the only name I knew what to call him."

"I once had a run-in, early in my career as Iron Man, with a lunatic named Strange. Madman who boasted of having an 'evil electric brain.'"

"Wait...that goofball? The guy you defeated because his daughter lent you some batteries out of her Walkman or something?" the man who claimed to be Happy asked.

"Yes!" Tony's lips curled into a strange, cold smile. "When I fought him back then, he seemed to just be very intellectually gifted. What if that electric brain of his continued to mutate, giving him some form of mental powers?"

"And considering the state you found him in, Happy--"

"He must have fallen pretty far...and come to resent you," The man who was Happy offered.

"Right." Tony moved toward the door. "I need to talk to someone. You need to get ahold of Donnie--"

"Beth's already on it. And Suzanne is looking for our false Happy."

"Good. Maybe we should call an administrative holday while we're at it--get what few employees we have left out and Strange in."

Suzanne Tsuyama once more questioned why she had taken on the position of Stark Solutions head of public relations.

Granted, the recommendation from Ling MacPherson and the fact that Ling's partner Bethany Cabe was part of the company played into it. And the challenge to take what on the surface was a true disaster--namely, a company and a figurehead that was now connected at the hip with a global war--and making it attractive again was attractive.

But the risks (and she knew there were risks) were beginning to creep her out. Ever since she had been admitted into the Stark Inner Circle and was told that part of her job would be rehabilitating and maintaining the new image of Iron Man, Suzanne had become increasingly aware of the bizarreness that happened around here on a regular basis. And the strange thing was that accepting that Pepper Potts-Hogan's ex-husband had had his brain exchange with a bum was one of the more normal things to happen to her.

She was making her way through the bottom of the four floors Stark had rented until the papers were finalized and the whole operation was moved to Long Island. The whole floor had been devoted to tempory archiving, which meant that the rooms had been emptied of furniture in favor of stacks upon stacks of banker's boxes filled with legal filings, plans, proposals and other ephemera--Bethany Cabe had once told her that there were three boxes filled with Stark's doodles going back to his childhood. The silence was oppresive save for the quiet murmuring of the skeleton crew of employees from both the floor above and the law firm below..

As she turned the northeast corner, Suzanne heard the chime of the elevator. She quick walked toward the bank in the central section just in time to see the double doors slowly begin to pull aside.

"Who's there?" she asked.

"Suzie?"

She reminded herself that even though the voice was familiar to her, the mind could not be. As Happy Hogan stepped onto the floor, she caught sight of weird shadows shifting in the soft elevator light. A low growling emenated from the cab. "Mr. Hogan...what are you doing here?"

Happy Hogan smiled lazily. "I could ask you the same thing, Suzie."

"I...," Suzanne shifted from one leg to the other, absently pushed her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose. "Pepper and Tony are looking for you. They...they need to see you, like, now."

The elevator doors began to close. Happy slid his left foot so that it stopped the two sides from closing. "You didn't answer the question, Suzie."

"You better go. Tony...he really needs you." Suzanne was aware of how the way Happy said her voice changed...as if he was contempuous of her.

"I'll see him in a minute. After we take care of this." He snapped his fingers. Suzanne felt her heart beat quicker.

Suddenly, a hand the size of a basketball with grey, wrinkled skin grabbed hold of one of the door. Metal shrieked as the metal bent, the door tearing from its track and buckling. Suzanne stepped back as a pair of monstrous things squeezed out onto the floor, stray wisps of hair dotting thrie massive skull-like faces, their bettle-browed countenance revealing two deep-set eyes that glowed a dull orangish red. One let forth with a grunting shout, revealing a mouthful of needle-like teeth.

"Jesus!"

"Not Jesus...not Stark," Happy corrected her. "Strange did this. It's important that I destroy his ideas as well as his body...and these two Freaks shall leave nothing behind. Sorry you have to be part of that nothing."

Suzanne kicked off her shoes. She took off, running as hard as she could.

Clay monitored Brendan O'Doyle's vital signs as he headed back from trolling the Puget for signs of Donnie. He was surprised at how agitated Brendan had become after their last conversation. Ever since Tony had hired him back as the support man for the new Iron Men, Clay had assumed that Brendan was in it for purely mercenary means...but it seemed like a bond had formed between the older man and the ex-con. If he didn't know any better, it would seem downright familial.

Clay was checking the air lanes to make sure that Brendan could return home unimpeded when the cell went off. Clay triggered the speaker and was met with sounds that sounded like Hell had opened up.

"What the?"

"Clay!" he heard the publicist--Suzanne?--scream over the distant footfalls that sounded like a stampede. "I need Donnie NOW!"

"Donnie's...unavailable--what the Hell is going on?"

"Happy's got--"

There was a terrible crashing sound, a sound acompanied by the clatter of something falling, being overturned. The roar that followed prompted Clay to hail Brendan.

"Get over here," he called out before Brendan greeted him. "Something's going down bad."

Bambi Arborgast was away from her desk, briefing one of the temporary workers in preparing recent billing records. If she had been there at her post instead of a file clerk named Tiffany, she might have found a way to avoid injury and alert her boss, maybe even find a way to delay the charge of Strange's Freaks.

Tiffany was named after the pop queen of the 80's, and showed an uncommin interest in the latest crop of female bubble-gum pop singers. She had the radio on Ms. Arborgast's desk turned to the local Top 40 station and was singing along to Christina Aguilera's latest under her breath. She was thinking about the party she was going to go to that weekend, and hoped to run into Gil Rhysler and hook up there. The taste of the strawberry mint she had sucked on was still heavy on her tongue.

And when the Freaks punched through the elevator door and charged her, none of that mattered.

Save for her scream.

Suzanne fast crawled, her pace only exceeded by the rapid beating of her heart. She had tipped over one of the shelving units filled to bursting with file boxes (_Thank God for cardio boxing_, she thought) and headed to the ground, hoping that the obstacle would both slow these...things down slightly and maybe even inadvertantly prompt them to knock more stuff down in their haste to get to her. She could hear the two beasts roaring and stomping closer, and knew it was a matter of seconds until they got to the mess she made.

Surreally, she remembered a conversation she had with Ling MacPherson at one of those Asian-American Networking Parties the local PIRG threw to encourage community support--a conversation where both mocked the assumption that Asian women instinctively knew martial arts regardless of their background. The assumption was patently ridiculous, but Suzanne would have given anything for that assumption to be reality now...

There was a sound of crashing and tearing; the two creatures had hit the overturned shelving. She got to her feet and ran, taking a moment to kick over a trash can and push a copying machine into the alleyway proper. _Anything_ to slow them down.

_Just two more corners_, she told herself, _and then you'll be back at the elevators...and you can get the Hell out of here_.

She looked over her shoulder. They were on their way, skin mottled and grey, club-like arms flailing about and leaving dents in the walls. Suzanne turned the corner, overturning a file cabinet once she was sure she was temporarily out of the creature's field of view.

To her left was a fire alarm. Suzanne grabbed hold of the red handle and yanked. The claxons called out shrilly just as the shadows of the things moved toward the sharp angle of the corner. Looking around quickly, she caught sight of a number of five-gallon bottled water drums stacked up against one wall.

It was true that Suzanne Tsuyama was not a fighter by trade. But she was far from stupid. With a grunt of effoty, she pulled another cabinet down as the first of the creatures started pulling apart the last one she threw in its way.

A quick scan of the surroundings revealed a construction lamp still hanging from a hook. Since this floor was only supposed to be for storage, Suzanne recalled that the decision was made not to fully wire the floor. Keeping one eye on the creatures as they pulverized the first cabinet out of frustration, she tore off the plastic seal on one drum, then another, then another until water flowed onto the floor in an ever-expanding puddle.

The creatures had finished destroying the first cabinet and started toward her. Suzanne backwards ran until the extension cord that powered the lamp was almost taunt. She waited, tamping down the fear as the monster approached.

Once they were at the edge of the expanding puddle, she smashed the light against the wall as hard as she could. Glass shards bit into her chest, but she ignored their stinging pain.

And then she threw the wreck, still connected to the wall outlet, into the water.

She didn't stay around for the light show as electrical current coursed through the creatures. By the time they were fully recovered--which admittedly was only a handful of seconds--she was at the elevator and mashed all the buttons. She wondered in her little truck had bought her enough time to escape, or if all it did was waste what was left of her life.

Luckily for her, Iron Man arrived.

James Rhodes came out of his office to see chaos riegning.

Something...some_things_ had invaded the Stark Solutions office. Already, the bloodied and battered bodies of workers littered the cubicles. And coming toward him were a number of grey-skinned, bald, barely human monstrosities. The coppery smell of their bodily fluids staining the walls and floors.

"What in God's name?" he asked, instinctively pulling a gun. With the skill of a top-notch military man and former mercenary, he snapped off a shot that dropped the creature to its knees, massive fingers scrabbling at its damaged right eye. To his horror, the two things immediately behind it trampled right over their injured compatriot. A sickening crunch rent the air as part of its skull gave in.

Out of the corner of his eyes before he rolled for the cover of the nearest cubicle, James caught sight of a human figure lost amidst the small cluster of creatures...someone unafraid to march amongst the things. Someone who looked like Happy Hogan.

James stood up quickly and fired off another two shots. These bullets glanced off the hide of the creatures. However, the attack did not go unnoticed; with a roar, one of the beasts threw the body it was carrying like a broken doll in James direction. It tumbled over the cubicle wall behind him, its limbs flopping at unnatural angles.

He was assessing what he could do before twin repulsor beams knocked the lead creature back and into one of its comaptriots. James looked over his shoulder to see what Tony had been referring to as The Evader Iron Man armor, slick and sleek and with a minimum of ornamentation.

"Are you alright?" This Iron Man asked as he stepped forward, firing again.

"Aim for its eyes," James advised the armored avenger. "They're vulnerable."

The man who could or could not be Happy Hogan laughed. "Iron Man...I was hoping you'd show up."

It was easy to determine which Iron Man came to her rescue--the bulky sihlouette that burst through the window to slam into one of the monsters marked this one as Brendan O'Doyle. Even though Suzanne perferred the more classic version represented by Donnie Gill (Hell, she preferred Donnie, period), she was secretly glad the wearer of the heavier armor was here to save her.

O'Doyle angled his flight, driving portions of the creature into the wall opposite the elevator banks. The second the creature's head of limb buckled the wall, O'doyle changed angle and smacked the creature into the opposite wall. The thing seemed dazed, each impact so hard dust and silt fell from the ceiling. By the time both Iron Man and the monster were near the end of the corridor, O'Doyle fired his pulsar bolt to send the creature through the opposite window, and a many story fall.

The Golden Avenger turned. He fired his repulsor rays at the approaching second creature, sending it skidding toward the broken window at the other side. It grunted in surprise as it found itself launched into the Seattle air. Along the floor, the various files and papers moved about, twirling and twisting randomly.

Over the wind whipping now whipping into the corridor, Brendan asked, "What's the sytch, gel?"

"It's Happy," she called back. "He's got more of these things."

"Right. Stay here.'

Suddenly, O'Doyle smashed through the ceiling.

Iron Man continued to fire, an action that seemed to have less and less impact on the advancing monsters. James tried to lay down suppressing fire and asked, "What's wrong?"

"It's light on armaments," The Iron Man answered. "And I'm running out of juice. O'Doyle's on his way."

As if on cue, one of the monsters found itself being driven into the ceiling by the arrival of a second Iron Man. Grasping the creature by its stomach, Brendan tossed him down into the copy machine below. "Where's Hogan?"

Three creatures remained. One grabbed hold of Brendan's ankle and swung the hero around, smacking him into a succession of office furniture. The other Iron Man flew low at the grey-skinned behemoth and cut its legs out from under it. It fell awkwardly and with such force it cratered the floor.

Brendan O'Doyle's gauntlet's crackled with electromagnetic energy. "Wilson, I gather?"

The lighter Iron Man swung his right arm around and let fire with a repulsor ray into another creature's eyes. "You gather right."

"Two Iron Men?" the man who wore Happy Hogan's face asked, confusion evident on his face. Brendan punched the creature which had a hold of him in the face, the magnetic intensifiers increasing the power of his punch threefold. The creature roared in pain, blackish ooze flowing from its smashed nose and threw its enemy aside.

Clay Wilson grabbed hold of the nearest cubicle wall and brought in down hard on his opponent's head. It did not seem to do much to slow the monster down--but it did delay him enough for Clay to fall onto his back and fire both boot jets right into its eyes. Brendan drifted backwards, the cuffs of his gauntlets spinning into position for the rail gun. As the creature started advancing, the tell-tale _pokpokpok_ of the gun launched dense shot right through its eye.

"You don't have to kill them," Clay shot out.

"They don't feel the same way!" James Rhodes added as he tumbled into the hallway and fired at the remaining creature's kneecap. It howled in pain.

The man in Hogan's body smiled beatifically. "Even if you take down my freaks, I can make more. And I will not stop until everything that is Tony Stark is ruined."

"What happened t'ye, Hogan?" Brendan asked as he hoisted a desk over his head and brought it down on the remaining monster's back. "I thought ye was Stark' true friend."

"It ain't me," came an aged, cracked voice as a ragged homeless man barrelled into the man with hogan's face, taking him down in a full-contact tackle. As his opponent hit the ground, the homeless man rained blows on his face, neck and chest with skill born out of years in the ring.

"Okay," Clay said confusedly after smacking the remaining creature in the jaw. "Who's this?"

Rhodey moved closer to the two men fighting. Slowly, he reholstered his weapon. "I recognize that style...Happy?"

"Give me back my body, Strange!" the homeless man cried out. Behind them, the remaining beast lifted Clay up by the neck like a recalcitrant puppy. blood flowed freely from its smashed face, and it wove from side to side unsteadily.

Brendan landed before the beast and raised his arms. "I've lost one friend today, git. Release the other, or ye'll be dead."

If the creature could understand, it made no indication. It snarled and lifted him up higher--

And Brendan O'Doyle fired another shot through the creature's eye at close range. He quickly stepped aside to allow the carcass to land.

Meanwhile, the man with Hogan's face was bleeding from the mouth. Rhodey pulled the homeless man from off him. "Give it back, Strange!"

Rhodey's mouth grew into a thin, grim line. He unsnapped his holster and put his hand on the armgrip. "I concur."

"And I as well," came a third, feminine voice. All eyes turned as Tony Stark led an attractive woman of indeterminate middle age, her sandy blonde hair still cut in a style that was fashionable in the 60's. "Give it back, father."

"C-carla?" the man with Hogan's face asked unsteadily.

"She's been working for me all these years, Strange, in my accounting department," Stark said dryly. He leaned heavily on his cane. "You could have killed her with this stunt."

"She would deserve it...for abandoning me."

The woman knelt down besides the man with Hogan's face. "I never abandoned you, father...but you needed to be stopped. I had hoped you'd come back after prison--Mr. Stark would have been willing to give you a job...but you disappeared...you have to return to your original body, face what you've done here."

"But...but...," the man turned his face away. "That body is dying..."

"And I deserve to die?" the homeless man shouted. "After all the help I gave you?"

Rhodey's gun came out again. He placed it against the man with Hogan's face's head. "You give it back and die later...or you stay and die now."

"Please, father...don't make it worse."

The man was silent for a long time. Then, he slowly swiveled his head, his eyes glowing. The glow increased in intensity until it died out. The homeless man stumbled backwards and reached out a hand for support. Carla went to him and placed herself under his arm, giving him her strength.

And the man with Hogan's face felt his jaw and mumbled, "Never knew I could hit that hard." He looked at Rhodey and snapped, "Point that elsewhere, can't you?"

Brendan stared at the homeless man. the man looked broken in spirit and not just in body...and he was oblivoous to the obvious love in the woman's face. "The police are coming for you, old man."

"Take him out of here, Carla," Tony said and turned away."

"What the--ye are lettin' him go?" Brendan said.

"You can't do that...look at what he did!" Clay added.

"He's dying," Happy countered as Rhodey helped him to his feet. "I could sense it when I was in there. He's only got a few days, maybe some weeks left the way he wrecked his body. He'll suffer enough."

"Ye cannae be serious!" Brendan called to Stark. He followed his boss.

"If you can see this as a joke," Stark replied. "You're more creative that I thought, O'Doyle."

"Maybe the lad was right about ye, Stark," Brendan O'Doyle called after his boss. "This is not over, not by a yard it isn't!"

"You sure you want to go on this mission, Wilkins? I would think with your history with the target..."

The grey-haired man shrugged as they waited for the two technicians to unlock the chamber. "I volunteered precisely because of that history. Anthony Stark helped me regain my sanity. If I can repay the favor by helping him cooperate with a minimum of mayhem..."

"Fair enough." With a creak of thick metal, the two techs pulled back the door. A blast on chilled air hit the two men, cold enough to mist their breaths.

"How is he doing?" the other man asked. He was balding, the bags under his eyes pronounced.

The lead teach, a slim Indian man with a smiple silver earring in his left ear, looked back at the chamber, then at the two men. "He's been responding to the hypno-learning fairly well, but his engrams still show unrest...I've already prescribed a drug cocktail to lower his aggressive tendencies in the field--"

"That won't be neccessary."

"But Director Thomas--"

"I have to concur," Wilkins added. "Stark is a good man at heart. I don't think forcing B-1 to go into the field without any regulation is unwise."

Director Thomas coughed discreetly. He reached out and wiped condensation from the thick glass of the chamber. "MI-5 is rather keen on sending a message. They want to finally put an 

end to the Si-Fan, and they want to make sure anyone who can help us knows we won't be polite in asking. Which is why he specifically wants Britannic, and he wants him brassed off."

Wilkins and the Director stared at the body that floated in the chamber, tubes providing respiration and nutrition. He was an uncommonly handsome man, with piercing blue eyes and wavy blonde hair. A faint, predatory smile seemed to flicker across the man's face.

"God help us," Wilkins said to himself.

"Those things that your bodyguard tossed out onto the street...they ran rampant through Pioneer Square. It took a hundred plus bullets to bring them down. The death tolls, the injured--"

Tony Stark put down the report. "I take full responsibility for this, Mr. Mayor. Stark Solutions promises--"

"Stark Solutions made a lot of promises when you came here, Mr. Stark," Mayor Greg Nickels said. The man's slightly pudgy face, usually tailor made for the jovial smile he frequently sported, was stern. "And what you brought us was property damage, death, and law suits. You made us Ground Zero for the worst war this planet has ever seen. The cost of having you here has far exceeded the benefits."

"But I have provided--"

"How many of these employees are now dead, Mr. Stark?"

Stark went silent.

The Mayor put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I appreciate that you had the best intentions in coming here. I like to think I game you the best chance possible. But now, after this last outburst, I have no choice.

"As of today, you are no longer welcome in Seattle."


	39. The Worst Day Ever

Iron Man

Chapter 39: The Worst Day Ever

They came in on The Brigadier, the high-speed shuttle that was meant to be their prime transport. It moved through the sky soundlessly thanks to special anti-gravimetric engines retro-engineered from a confiscated space craft. The special cells on either side of the wing caught freefalling beta particles and converted them into energy that powered everything within. Reflective tiles along the ship's surface refracted the light that hit it, making it difficult to see with the naked eye. Special radar baffles made it even more difficult to discern it by technological means.

The man who steered the ship over the craggy cliffs of Willapa Bay was the oldest of the group in The Brigadier. He was edging into middle age, although his white hair and lines around his eyes and mouth made him look older. An old style aviator's helmet lay at his right, complete with goggles--which matched the cut of his green-and-white uniform.

His mind was on the man they were coming for, a man who had helped him recover from a severe nervous breakdown. The man could have had him arrested, but instead made sure he had the psychiatric help that stabilized him and brought him back to mental health.

And now he was hunting him down.

Behind him, his co-workers in The Light Brigade were suiting up. The thin, tall Indian woman code-named Mosquito helped Claymore run through the system checks on his armor. Claymore's helmet with its distinctive bladed crest and oversize gauntlets lay off to the side, and his craggy face was screwed up in concentration. In the back, Chav shadow-boxed, the hood on his black tunic brought up over his bald head. It always surprised him at how Chav looked like he barely fit in his clothes no matter how big the tailors made them.

And way in the back, secured with bands made of a titanium allow, Britannic was sedated.

He reflected on why these members had been chosen to head the team. MI-6 could have sent the Celtic Lightning God Leir, or the Silver Shadow--both would have given a much calmer hand to the mission. But it seemed like someone was sending a message to the subject, a rather violent message...

He didn't understand why Tony Stark needed to be driven to heel so badly. But Tom Wilkins, whether as himself or in his secret identity as Endotherm, wanted to get there first to help him properly.

"I'll give it a thorough analysis, Tony."

Tony nodded. "Good. I needed the formula cracked as soon as possible."

"Hey, it's a mystery. Nothing like a mystery to get a good scientist's juices flowing. Besides, it gets slow sometimes up here."

Tony allowed himself a small, tight smile. "I don't have to tell you that this is top secret, right? I've worked a little too hard to keep this operation under wraps until the exact moment."

"Only you and me until it's ready."

"Good. Keep me in the loop." There was a knock on the door. Tony added, "And thanks, Bill. Gotta go," and shut down the close circuit link.

He grabbed for his cane and called out, "What?"

Slowly, Bethany Cabe opened the door. Her eyes had a cast to it, one of uncertainty and confusion. "Tony...a minute?"

"Just," Tony responded tersely. "What do you want?"

She stepped inside, closed the door securely. "Everyone's panicking about the move. They're scared."

Tony's face betrayed no emotion. "It's not a choice. We were told to leave, remember?"

"But there are a lot of people here who will be out of a job, and--"

"I've already written letters of recommendations for those we can't take with us, Bethany, and when possible I've personally placed phone calls in their support. My name may be mud to the general public, but it does hold some weight in business circles. They'll find work quickly."

Bethany hesitated. "But Tony...these employees are going to be out on the street at the end of the week. They need some security--"

"The Mayor should have considered that when he told me to go." Tony shifty his cane from one hand to the other. "These are _extraordinary_ circumstances, Bethany. I have to make arrangements to move an entire company out of a city immediately, my reputation is shot to Hell, and I can't be worried about the file clerks and the data entry personnel of the world at this time."

For a long moment, Bethany stood in front of him, the worry on her face slowly solidifying into something harder. Her green eyes flashed with darkness. "You used to, Tony. One of the reasons I was in love with you...that I thought..."

"Are we done?" Tony asked.

Bethany paused. "You're changing. You have to decide what you're changing into."

Tony turned from the tall redhead. "Could you send O'Doyle in here? I need to speak to him."

The door closed behind him loudly.

It had taken him three days to come out from under the bed. He spent those days with dust and mold and decay on his lips and on his skin.

It took another day for him to stand up--standing up after a number of attempts where he thought he heard the bells jingling, jangling in the back of his head. And even after he stood, it took another four hours to convince himself that the bells were just that--an auditory illusion stuck in his soul because of all that time spent under cold stone in another dimension. Frequently, he focused firmly on the way the roaches skittered across the walls; their movement had a hypnotic quality that served to drown out the bells.

It took two more days for Donnie to have the courage to turn on the television, to find out what happened in what seemed like an eternity of pain thanks to The Jester. Many were the times when he touched the knob--for this hotel was far too old, far too falling apart, for it to provide its residents with something as simple as a remote control--only to stare into the black screen and be reminded of the sheer oblivion that followed during that moment when Mark Scarlotti, his friend, cradled his body just as his life dissipated into the void.

Always the void...Donnie Gill knew now where people went when they died...and where they went was...

The television set was on only for four minutes before visions of what lay beyond prompted him to turn it off.

He forced himself to eat once he was able to move around his apartment, packages of chips and canned soup and cold cuts gone green around the edges that Donnie rolled up and devoured. The thought of contacting Tony and Clay and Brendan kept coming to him, but when the phone rang the bells jangled in his head again and he leapt back, running for the bathtub where he curled up inside the porcelain body until the jingling was over.

He truly _wanted_ to talk to those people again, to rejoin his life. He felt the need to see Suzanne again--he wasn't sure, but he felt a connection with her. But if he put on the armor again, if he was encased in iron with only Clay's voice...

...it wouldn't drown the jingling out...

When the desk clerk came to collect his rent, Donnie was confused. Didn't Tony pay his rent?

And then Donnie learned how Tony and Clay and Brendan and, yes, even Suzanne, had abandoned him.

And somehow it made the bells stop, permanently drowned out by something else. Something raw red and pulsing with the fuzzy pain of an infection.

Something that wasn't going to go away any time soon.

For the first time since returning to the real world, Donnie Gill left his hotel room.

Clay Wilson looked from Brendan O'Doyle to Tony Stark with increasing disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"I don't think we're gettin' a choice in the matter, lad," the burly redheaded man replied. He leaned against the docket with arms folded.

"Brendan was always designated to serve with the Avengers, allowing you time to train Donnie. Now that I've re-negotiated an invite into an Avengers team--"

Clay raised a hand. "No. I thought I made it very clear that I wasn't going to put on the armor--"

"But you did," Brendan pointed out. "back in China. And need I add, ye do have your own precious suit of armor.

"That was extenuating circumstances. I'm here as trainer and support, not as a super-hero." Clay pointed at the egg-shaped object. "This is the only thing I should be inside of...not a full set of armor. Get Rhodey, get Cabe. I'm not taking to the skies."

"You know as well as I do, Clay," Tony replied carefully. "That Rhodey does not want anything to do with armor anymore. If it was up to me, Bethany would have been in a suit long ago, but she prefers to rely on her own skills. I can go down the list of other possible candidates, but the fact remains that you're the most logical choice. You've worked with Brendan and Donnie enough with these new armors that you could probably get more out of them than either man--no offense."

"None taken," Brendan O'Doyle said with just a hint of sarcasm.

Clay sighed. "I don't want to go down that road."

"Well, the choices are limited, lad. If I'm bein' re-assigned to this 'Operation Ebon Knight'"

"--a reassignment that comes with a pardon for your past as The Mauler," Tony reminded Brendan.

"And Donnie is missing, it doesn't leave us much in the way of what we can do."

Tony hobbled forward. He looked directly into Clay Wilson's face, a face that had been altered through plastic surgery to give him a true chance at a law-abiding life after being the criminal Force for years. "And I need an Iron Man, Clay. I need his protection."

Clay refused to look away from his employer. "You could climb in again."

For a moment, something akin to longing crossed Tony's face. "Don't think I haven't thought of that...but I'm not ready yet."

"You better not be, Mr. Stark," Brendan said quietly. "I'm of a like mind to James Rhodes. Getting back into the armor is the worst thing for you."

Tony's eyes narrowed. "I didn't know you cared."

"You set me up in one of the most comfortable jobs a man of my skills could have, Stark," Brendan answered, pushing off the docket. "How could I not care about what's happening with my meal ticket? If my friend leaves because you're seeking to kill yourself in that tin can, don't be thinking I won't be far behind him."

Tony's face was hard. "I'll remember that."

"Which brings us back to who wears the suit, Mr. Stark. We need to find Donnie," Clay said.

"We'll do that," Tony told the two men coldly. "But until we do, you need to put on the suit or find someone to put it on _soon_."

Without waiting for an answer, Tony turned his back on the two men and walked away, his cane clicking against the floor of the office. They watched him in silence before Brendan added, "He best be tellin' the truth."

When the two men and one woman approached the front desk of Stark Solutions, Bambi Arborgast experienced a strong sense of deja vu. On the first day when, in the wake of The Stark destroying Tony Stark's home, the company moved to the mainland, Bambi had encountered a trio of men who turned out to be genetically altered monsters looking for Mr. Stark. Now, as she consulted with Pepper Potts about storing redundant equipment before their move, on their last day, another trio approached her.

The man taking the lead was familiar to Mrs. Arbogast--not because she had met him before, but because she had made it her business to know significant employees of what was then Stark International back in the day. The man with the square jaw, white hair and soft eyes was Tom Wilkins, former security chief of Stark International's London office. The strikingly tall dark-skinned woman in the black sleeveless, backless jumpsuit and the beefy bald man with the eyes like chips of mica in what appeared to be blue camo-pants, military boots and a stylized hooded jumpsuit were unfamiliar to her. They stood back from Wilkins, and Bambi got a sense of detached contempt from the woman and out-and-out anger from the man.

She managed a professional smile. "Mr. Wilkins, I believe. How may we help you?"

Tom Wilkins smiled. It was a crooked grin, not altogether without charm and not altogether convincing. "Hallo. I need to see Mr. Stark."

Bambi felt Pepper take a position besides her. The two women had a sort of strange rapport with each other--before she had signed on as Tony's personal assistant and manager, Pepper had had that honor...and it gave Bambi someone who she could talk to who thoroughly understood the peculiar stress of being the good right hand of a genius like Tony. "I'm sure Tony would be delighted to see you, Mr. Wilkins--"

"But you've caught us at a very bad time," continued Pepper, a bland smile on her lips. "We're in the process of preparing for a relocation to the East Coast and--"

"Ma'am," Tom said, trying his best to keep as calm a voice on as possible. Behind him, the bald man cracked his knuckles, a sound that reverberated off the now bare walls of the Stark 

Solutions reception area like a rifle shot. "I'm on official business with the British government. I consider Mr. Stark a friend, which is why I'm hoping we can do this without any inconvenience."

Bambi's smile slowly disappeared. She folded her arms in front of her. "That sounded like a threat."

The bald man leaned forward. "Damn right it's a--"

Tom raised his hand. "Madam, we are here for Mr. Stark. I would like to retrieve him without incident...but our superiors did specify that we use whatever means we can. Please--just let me talk to him, man to man and I'm sure this can happen without unpleasantness."

Bambi smirked. It was certainly deja vu. "Mr. Wilkins, you're welcome to make an appointment to see Mr. Stark once our relocation is finished. I'm sure he would be pleased to see you. But until then...well, I'm sorry."

The dark skinned woman raised one elegant eyebrow. She looked at Bambi with a chilly bemusement. "It's rather quaint to show such loyalty for a man so reviled."

Pepper nodded. "That's it. I'm calling Iron Man."

Tom Wilkins sighed. The bald man pushed past him and poked a stubby finger into Bambi's chest. "You call your Iron Man, and I'll toss him a beating he ain't gonna forget by half."

Bambi Arborgast continued smirking. She once again observed that most people only saw her as an overweight pencil pusher and not the military woman she was. In a flash, she took the bald man's wrist and twisted it in a way that used to make men twice her size cry like a baby...

Only it had no effect on the bald man, except to make him laugh. "Don't feel nothing short of a RGG at close range, slag."

"Chav, stand down," Tom Wilkins said with a voice tinged with sadness. "Mosquito, search for Stark. I'll let Claymore know to intercept."

A strange, flowery scent filled the air. In an instance, the Indian woman disappeared; for a moment Mrs. Arborgast thought she had turned invisible until she caught sight of a small object--obviously this Mosquito--flying through the crack of the door leading to the offices.

"I promise that we will do our best to keep inconvenience and damage to a minimum," Tom said earnestly.

"Pity, that," the bald man called Chav muttered under his breath.

Besides Bambi, Pepper Potts stared at the man with the prematurely grey hair. "You're making a serious mistake."

"I'm beginning to think that, madam," Tom replied, sadness creeping into his voice. "But it was never in my hands." He brought his wristband to his mouth. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

Dylan Cornwall had the utmost admiration for Tony Stark. When he had first been chosen to pilot the Claymore ordinance, he studied Stark's work--primarily Stark's bodyguard Iron Man. The young SAS operative found a grace and power in the Golden Avenger's armor and the way he used it. Throughout training, Dylan had hoped to be as good as the man in that suit.

So as he hovered outside the Stark Solution offices awaiting orders, he had secretly hoped that Endotherm's strategem would work. He knew that the man had a relationship with Stark; Dylan prayed that he could appeal to the man emotionally to go with them.

But then he heard Tom's voice over the commlink. "Claymore, we have to use a firmer hand. Try to minimize damage."

Dylan felt his heart sink. He glided forward toward the building, his eyes darting around to manipulate the HUD controls until the organic scanner came up. Dimming the lights inside the helmet as he moved closer, Dylan examined each heartbeat, cross-referencing what he learned in the debriefing.

There--Dylan amplified the lifescan until he confirmed that the target's heartbeat was muffled...a heartbeat that was distorted due to the special harness he now had to wear to stave off the Stark techno-virus. He brought his left arm up and activated the halogens that flooded the top floors. Dylan tripped the armaments in the oversized right gauntlet, not raising it but prepared to use it if forced.

"Tony Stark," Dylan's electronically distorted, amplified voice. "Under the auspices of the British Crown, we are asking you to turn yourself over before there is some unpleasantness."

"Already is some," came a voice as Iron Man burst through the wall to intercept Dylan and drive him away from the building.

Amari buzzed through the cubicles, eyes made sharp by the serum she imbided searching every employee. She knew Tom (Endotherm--she had to remember to use codenames in the field) wasn't comfortable sending her out into the field on her own. But he knew as well as she did that she was the fastest, her skills were the best fit for recon, and her size actually made it easier for her to evade attacks. And the faster she located Stark and secured him, the quicker she'd be home.

...and the quicker they were home, the less chance they'd have of using Britannic.

She flitted through the cubicles as fast as she could. In her head, she rehearsed the formal statement she was required to read to Mr. Stark, and went through the options if he chose not to comply.

Which was probably why she was blindsided when a someone slammed a trashcan over her.

She had to give her attacker credit; whoever it was pressed his or her attack so swiftly that Amari actually smacked into the circular wall hard. She fell to the part of the curvature under 

her, stunned, but shook her head to knock the cobwebs out. A rapid scan borne out of the serum that gave her reflexes appropriate to an insect showed that the wall the attacker was holding the can against was simple drywall.

So there was an escape.

She raised her gauntlets, ready to let fire with the high-impact flechettes when the attacker started _smacking_ the transhcan with an explosive fierceness. Amari screamed, ears ringing with pain as the attacker began beating a rapid tattoo on the sides. Specially implanted muscles designed to help her manage her wings struggled to work, but the combination of the noise and the pain and the disorientation made it difficult to lift off the metal walls.

She was going to find out who came up with this strategy, and she was going to...

The wristband on Tom Wilkins' right arm _chirruped_ in a distinctive pattern. The man glanced down at the metallic bracelet's display screen and swore.

"What?" asked Chav.

"Mosquito's gone offline," Tom told his teammate. "Have to assume--"

"I'll intercept. You right with keeping the ladies busy?"

Tom reached for a pistol that gleamed greyish-blue and sported a strange nozzle. He leveled it at Pepper and Mrs. Arborgast. "I'll manage. Go! And restrain yourself."

But the tall bald man had already gone through a wall into the main office area.

Smirking, Bethany Cabe lifted the trashcan away from the wall. A very tiny woman with dark skin fell heavily to the floor.

_All those talks with Lang paid off,_ she thought to herself as the screams rose in the air. Bethany looked around and saw...well, a man with a shaved head, wearing urban camo, muscles rippling under--and out of--his sleeveless hoodie--was heading straight for her.

She sighed. "Always the big ones," she muttered under her breath.

"Oi, you gonna pay for what you did!" the bald man roared. He cocked one arm back as he closed distance, his fist splintering cubicle walls as he went past.

Bethany Cabe waited until the very last moment before falling backwards, one arm grabbed the man's sweatshirt. Before he could react, she had him in a judo throw, lifting him up and over into the bank of copy machines behind her. She rolled and got up, turning in preparation for the man's next move. She was vaguely aware of the way her heart was pounding, but there was time to take a breather later.

Out of the corner of her eye, Bethany caught a glimpse of red and gold making its way toward her. "Good," she muttered, "Backup."

The bald man pushed aside the debris of the copiers and roared. "You think your chinee tricks will stop me? Nothing short of an RGG can do that!"

"How about the equivalent?" came an electronically altered voice behind Bethany and to her left. She averted her eyes a split second before an arc of energy smacked into the bald man, driving him back further and further into--and through--the wall.

"Pulse bolt?" she asked the Iron Man who was stepping forward. He was wearing Donnie's armor--but it couldn't have been.

Donnie was gone.

The Iron Man continued his advance. "Yes. We need to get Tony out of here."

"I'm on it," Bethany replied before turning toward the executive offices. Behind her, she could already hear the sound of debris being pushed aside and the frustrated roar of the bald man.

_Exactly what we need before leaving Seattle,_ she thought ruefully. _Another group of capes wrecking the place._

In the Brigadier, support staff monitored the conditions of the on-field assailants. This was important on a mission where Britannic was in the core grouping; after all, he was not the preferred operative when engaging in sensitive missions given its...

Well, it was best if Britannic did not get mobilized.

The lead of the three man support crew, a balding, thickly bespectacled man by the name of Pennfield, was optimistic about not having to use the blunt object that was restrained and sedated in the hold. This was a retrieval, with only a single super-normal opponent to muck things up. Yes, there was the possibility that Iron Man could call in one of his Avenger friends, but the intel suggested a period of estrangement between the organization and its original patron.

But then a young black woman with her hair tied up in braids called Pennfield to her side. She pointed at the small row of monitors at the top of their workstation, a workstation that kept track of the health of the field agents.

Pennfield looked at what the monitors revealed, removed his glasses, wiped them with his jacket and put them back on again. He moved closer and looked harder.

"Jesus wept," Pennfield muttered to himself.

Mosquito was down. Chav's fatigue poisons were up and his adrenaline production was down--which meant he was soon to join his teammate.

His co-worker kept her eyes on the workstation. "What should I do, sir?"

Pennfield sighed. He knew Wilkins was going to have a screaming fit, but the orders issued from MI-6 were very clear. And even if they weren't, the fact that they insisted on Britannic coming with...

"Deploy him."

Tom Wilkins raised his arm after his wristband began sounding. He took in the sight of a second of what was once three lit symbols begin to flash.

Glancing once at Mrs. Arborgast, he pressed the flashing symbol and said, "Chav, report."

The operative who was meant to be the strong backbone of the Light Brigade was heard coughing. "It's...it's nothing."

"It sounds bloody well like something. I'm on my way."

Tom closed the link and unholstered his gun. Behind him, he heard the stout woman who manned the front desk say, "You know how Tony's like. He's not giving up."

"For his sake, I hope he does," Tom replied. He fired the gun, letting loose with a stream of energy that coated the floor leading into the main office space with ice. He took a moment to look back at Mrs. Arborgast and added, "I promised you there'd be a minimum of damage--"

"Well, that's shot to Hell," Mrs. Arborgast shot back.

A flicker of hurt came across Wilkins' face. He placed the old-style aviator's helmet on his head and slid off.

This was not how Dylan had expected a melee with Iron Man to go.

He had expected the battle to be fought primarily at long range, with the two of them weaving through buildings, exchanging fire from their energy weapons. He had expected the fight to be one of strategy, a fight that would be won by guile and cleverness.

But this...this was a barroom brawl thirty stories up. This Iron Man, his fists shimmering with an energy that intel had suggested were a magnetic field designed to amplify his strength, was bouncing Dylan from one side of the street to the other, keeping himself close. Dylan had managed to deploy the two blades from the bottom part of his gauntlet and was using them to deflect part of the impact, but the punches _hurt_. The internal monitoring system was going insane with warnings of eminent system shutdowns. He triggered a concentrated air blaster in one gauntlet that briefly drove Iron Man away into the nearest building, giving Dylan an even briefer moment to toggle through the offense protocols for a proper response-- But Iron Man was already on top of him again, hitting Dylan with a pulse bolt that shook him to his bones. Dylan spun, trying desperately not to lose him bearing and fired a minirocket in return. It burst across Iron Man's chest, and the Golden Avenger was closing in fast.

But then an inarticulate roar was heard from below, and Dylan's heart sank...

Because now the man he was battling, one professional to another, was slammed hard by the blue skinned lunatic in the red and white tights the W.H.O. boys had insisted that they bring along. Dylan wished he wasn't here; these people weren't criminals, and didn't deserve having a clinically insane clone of Brian Braddock thrust upon them. But that decision had been taken out of his hands.

Of course, neither Dylan, Iron Man or the feeble-minded Braddock took notice of the Shelby GT slowly approaching in midair.

The sounds of battle were still echoing behind Bethany as she scanned the increasingly unsafe offices of Stark Solutions for her boss. He hadn't been in his office, which made sense, even taking into account how bizarre Tony had been behaving. She knew she wouldn't want to be in the first place these nutjobs would look...

To her right, she was aware of what was going on outside the Stark Solutions' windows. Doyle was being pounded on by some blue-skinned blonde guy in a red outfit as another armored guy with a strange crested helmet was hovering around trying to break things up. Somewhere behind her, there came a crash that made her silently pray that whoever was in Donnie's armor was okay.

_If this keeps up,_ Bethany thought, _We are _so_ losing our safety deposit_.

Even with the chaos all around her, Bethany was taken aback by where she found Tony. There he was, casually standing behind one of the file cabinet engineers used to store blueprints, watching as Doyle blasted the blue-skinned man off of him while talking on his Treo. There was such a sense of...nonchalance to the way he was talking even with three super-powered combatants beating each other up outside the window.

"...most here? Perfect. And you have the paper? Thanks, Cas--"

Bethany grabbed Tony's wrist. "You're leaving _now_."

Tony resisted her pull and said, "I'll talk to you when you get here," into the smart phone before looking at her and asking, "What's wrong, Bethany?"

Bethany's mouth gaped open for a moment. "Wrong? You know there are a team of British super-agents looking to take you in for your misadventures in China."

"Really?" Tony put his Treo away. "Who's in charge?"

"An old employee of yours--Tom Wilkins?"

Tony nodded and adjusted his cane. "Endotherm. Good man."

Bethany watched as Tony started walking away from her, keeping up a quick pace in spite of the cane he was relying on.

Walking _toward_ the field of battle.

Clay Wilson cursed under his breath as the goof with the shaved head burrowed his way out of the debris.

Why did he find himself in the suit again, even after telling Tony he wasn't going to? Yes, he could tell himself that there was an immediate danger to take care of, but he also had to admit there was something else going on. He raised his arms as the bald guy dusted himself off and grinned.

"I was hoping you'd show," the bald man said before lifting up a copier machine and hoisting it toward Clay. Clay, however, was ready, letting loose with a pair of repulsor blasts that sent the piece of office equipment flying off to one side. There was a cloud of toner and dust that rose from where the copier impacted with the walls. Clay moved forward, switching his sensors from visual to infrared and saw his assailant approaching rapidly.

He worked the chin toggle, switching the chest nodule from search light to uni-beam, but the bald man was far too fast. With a roar of defiance, he smashed Clay in the chin with an uppercut that sent him down on his ass. Clay rolled to his left, missing a boot from his opponent by mere seconds. Falling back onto his back while working to switch the ordnance, he fired his boot jets and aimed for the man's eyes. Clay's opponent clawed at his face, stepping back and giving him the time to fire his unibeam at the man. Since Clay was on his back, the blast lifted the bald man up through the ceiling. Clay rolled into a crouch and followed the man's trajectory at full speed, driving the man into three more ceilings and out onto the roof. Twisting in the air, he dumped the man onto the rooftop.

And the sight he saw was a little...disconcerting. There was the Doyle version of Iron Man duking it out with a blue-skinned, blonde man while another figure in armor hovered. There were cracks in Doyle's suit, and the blue man continued to pound him mercilessly. Clay looked down at his opponent and noticed the bald man was beginning to rouse himself. He worked the HUD to get the right ordnance and shot a trio of cryo-pellets at the man. Instantly, a thick coating of rime covered the man.

"Looks like something I would do," a voice came from below him. Clay looked down to see an trail of ice moving upward to meet him, and somewhere along said trail was a man dressed in a green-and-blue variation of an old RAF uniform, gliding up the trail...

on roller skates.

"This is just..." Clay muttered, just before he found his fellow Iron Man smashed against him. As one, the two armored heroes tumbled in the air before hitting the nearest skyscraper with enough force to embed them in the brickface.

"This is embarassin'," Clay heard Brendan mutter. Clay looked over the bulkier Iron Man's shoulder to see the third armored combatant--the one with the odd, blade-shaped helmet--fast approaching them, a thin glowing shaft emanating from a nodule on his right gauntlet. Directly behind him was the blue-skinned monster, and now Clay could see the Union Jack pattern apparently tatooed on his chest. The armored man had a hand on the blue man, as if he was holding his comrade back.

"Kill Yers! Fer Englund! Mudder Countrie!"

Clay pushed Brendan off of him. The bulkier Iron Man's right boot jet seemed to work in fits and starts, and brief crackles of energies popped from cracks in his chest plate. "Aye, you can try, lad," Brendan said weakly.

Out of the corner of his HUD, Clay could see the man in the pilot's uniform sliding along on the ice bridge he was creating with a gun of some sort. "This isn't how we want this. If you'll just release Mr. Stark to our custody, it'll all sort out."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Clay replied, activating the rail gun and raining a number of steel shots along the ice slide. The ice spiderwebbed and crackled before breaking apart, sending the man in the flight suit landing hard on the roof. Clay was about to turn to face Brendan when he felt someone slam into his side hard, hard enough that a sharp pain exploded across his ribs.

"I's duh Pertector uv der Railm! You die fer Mudder Countrie!" The blue man shoved his fist in Clay's face. Still wincing at the pain, Clay activated his uni-beam, pushing the blue man away. He just caught sight of Brendan exchanging repulsor fire with the armored man when a thick ring of ice surrounded his chest.

"Don't make me condense that ice, lad," the man in the flight suit called out. "Claymore, contain Britannic!"

"Easier said that done," the armored man shot back. He pushed past Brendan, his impact against the damaged Iron Man causing flakes of metal to scatter into the air. The blue man came at Clay again, screaming near incoherently, and smashing his fist against his chest plate. To Clay's alarm, the chest plate cracked deeply. A _chuff_ exploded from one of the armored man's left gauntlet, releasing a net that wrapped around the blue man's neck. The armored man strained, but only succeeded in pulling the blue man back slightly. Already, Clay could hear the strands of the net start to snap...

Luckily, a beam came out of the sky, one that enveloped the blue man. For what seemed like forever, the crazed creature shuddered and shook like he was electrified before going limp. Clay looked up to see that the beam came from a car...not just any car, mind you, but a deep grey Shelby GT.

A deep grey Shelby GT that was _flying_ on what appeared to be tires set on its side. The headlights irised open, flooding the area with near-bliding light. Clay toggled the helmet's lenses for polarization. The message boomed from hidden speakers.

"This is Casper Sitwell, fully authorized agent of SHIELD. All combatants are ordered to stand down immediately or be met with force."

"I'd pay attention if I were you," Clay heard from behind him.

Tony Stark was positively beaming as he told everyone this.

"So you've been cooperating with SHIELD?"

Tony nodded. "I'm sorry that nobody told you, Tom, but we've been keeping it quiet--for their protection."

"And we want to give MI-6 assurances that when a lead develops on Fu Manchu, we will share everything. Our intention is to make sure your organization and ours will be in on the capture of this criminal."

Tom Wilkins looked from Tony to Sitwell and back. "You know this looks suspicious, Tony, don't you?"

Tony shrugged, moved his cane from one hand to the other. "It doesn't matter, Tom...since part of this arrangement means that we can overlook how your group launched an attack on American soil without getting authorization."

Tom paused. "I'll let my superiors know."

"Good," Tony replied. "Nice seeing you again."

"And you."

As the two men watched Tom Wilkins leave, Casper said, "You do know you're stretching this arrangement you've made?"

Tony's smile hardened, but he did not say anything.

James Rhodes was waiting for Tony in his office. Before he could say anything, the man who was Tony's best friend, the man who was there to save him when he fled from Wong Chu, said, "You're playing a stupid game here, Tony. I don't know why, but you can't keep this to yourself all the time."

Tony keep his position at the doorway to his office. "I know what I'm doing."

"I'm not so sure anymore," Rhodey said. He locked eyes with his boss. "You've changed. It's subtler than when you climbed into the bottle, but it's there, and it's causing a lot of problems for everyone--"

"You have to trust me, James."

"I _would_ have trusted you," Rhodey said firmly before Tony could go further, "before you went ahead and got us thrown out of Seattle, and _before_ some deal for God knows what purpose with SHIELD--"

The sound of Tony's cane smashing down onto the floor reverberated. "I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!"

"People are losing their livlihood for your game." James Rhodes rose slowly from his chair. He moved to Tony and nodded. "You're not responsible for The Stark. Get over it."

"I know what I'm doing," Tony Stark repeated, quieter this time.

"This talk ain't over."

Only when James left the office did Tony go to the desk. He reached under the edge to trip a hidden catch. A small drawer popped out. He felt around until he removed a small vial that glowed an ever-changing light from within.

He contemplated it for a long time before putting it back. The first priority was getting everyone moved, and getting the vial up to the station.

And then the game would truly begin.


End file.
